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eufezco · 1 month ago

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FAMILY (old man logan x psychic reader)

this is based on that xmen97' in which jean goes to the hospital and they don't want to attend her labor. this can be extremely triggering to some of you since it includes miscarriages so be careful 🫶🏻 but i couldn't give it a sad ending so i kept writing 😭

this is sooo long and i could've kept going talking about old man logan being a dad so i might do a part two. english isn't my first language !!

—logan —. you called him. you used one of your hands to shook his body while your other one rested on your belly.

logan was sleeping peacefully by your side. he rubbed his eyes and frowned when, thanks to the light coming in from the street, he saw your cheeks wet from your tears.

—i can't hear her. i can't- i can't hear her, lo —. you repeated in a rush.

it took him a few seconds to understand what you were talking about but when he finally did, he was quick to get out of bed and turn on the light on his bedside table. he was immortal but his heart stopped beating for a moment when he saw the blood between your legs.

he found it hard to breathe as you both looked into each other's eyes.

he had never seen an expression of terror like the one you had on your face that night. he had a hard time reacting, his body did not respond, he wanted to think that he was inside one of his horrible nightmares. but the sound of your sobs at the sight of the blood, how you squeezed your legs together and your eyes closed shut from the pain of the cramps brought him back to reality.

logan ran to your side of the bed and took you in his arms. —it's okay, baby, it's okay. we're going to the hospital now, it's okay —. you heard him murmur as he kissed your forehead.

when you two left the room, laura was waiting at the door. she had her claws out, after hearing the cries she was already assuming the worst. her facial expression changed from anger to concern when she saw you in his arms, holding onto his neck and crying. she noticed your blood-stained pajama pants. laura hid her claws and followed logan out of the house and to the limousine.

he carefully placed you in the back seats and stopped the girl when she tried to get in the car with you. laura gave him an angry look.

—no, i need you here with charles.

laura grunted and tried to get in the car again. logan stopped her one more time.

—laura, please.

logan was practically begging. his eyes were glossy with tears, he tried to hide it but his hands were shaking. laura gave up after hearing the tone of desperation in which he asked her to stay. she stepped back so logan could get into the car, still frowning that he wouldn't let her go with you.

—wake up charles, tell him what happened and bring him home with you.

laura nodded. logan started the car and stepped on the gas and once you arrived at the hospital, he took you in his arms again. he carefully laid you down on the stretcher brought by the nurses, his grip lingering on your hand as long as possible. when he tried to go with you, they wouldn’t let him.

logan’s jaw clenched, his fists tightening at his sides, but he didn’t argue. he didn’t want to make a scene. despite the urge to fight his way through, to stay by your side, he held back. and he waited, his legs bouncing restlessly, eyes fixed on the doors, hoping someone would come out to give him news. but no one said anything. he waited for what felt like an eternity until, unable to bear it any longer, he stormed up to the front desk.

—where is she? —he growled, eyes dark with rage. the nurse glanced up, confused, looking at papers before finally letting out the truth: they had forgotten to tell him.

forgotten. you had been alone for hours and no one had bothered to let him know. his fists slammed down on the desk, the sound echoing through the quiet waiting room as his voice rose. —you forgot? she’s been in there alone, and you forgot?

they called for a doctor, fearing the situation was escalating. the doctor was cold, didn’t even bother to make eye contact, his gaze focused on the clipboard in his hands. —she had a miscarriage, we are sorry, sir —. the doctor said and continued talking but logan couldn't hear anything past those eight words. he closed his eyes, focusing on his own breathing, shallow as it was. one of his hands moved to his chest, his heart was racing.

all the anger turned into pain and he hated it. —but why? what happened? —. he didn't even know where he got the strength to ask.

—we are not sure, maybe it have been due to her mutation.

logan closed his eyes again and shook his head. sadness quickly turned into a stronger feeling, one that made his face burn and his fists clench tightly. —she's a psychic, what the fuck would that have to do with her pregnancy?

—sir.

—no one in this fucking hospital has ever cared about us.

—sir, i'm going to have to ask you to calm down. we treat all of our-

—always blaming our mutations instead of doing your fucking jobs.

and when he finally saw you, lying on the hospital bed, he ran and wrapped his arms around you. when he entered the room he noticed that you had been crying before, your eyes were red and your face was wet. —i'm so sorry, —he whispered, his voice breaking slightly as he held you. —i should have been here. god, i'm so sorry.

—i'm sorry, logan, i'm so sorry —you sobbed against his chest. his hands held your head closer to him, his fingers caressed your hair. you began to sob as soon as your head rested on his chest

—it's not your fault, baby. you did nothing —he mumbled. he planted a kiss on the top of your head as he struggled to not let the tears in his eyes slide down his cheeks. —it's not your fault, you hear me? i'm sorry this happened to you.

laura didn't quite know how to approach you.

she was not good with words and physical contact had never been her greatest strength either. she definitely took it after her father. she would stand in the doorway of your room watching you curled up on the bed. it seemed wrong to go in, you had a hard time sleeping and when you finally did, logan made sure that no one bothered you. but it felt even more wrong to just stand there once again without doing anything.

she walked carefully into the room and sat down on the bed. with even more care, she placed your head on her legs and played with your hair the same way logan did until you finally fell asleep. he peeked into the room when he saw the door open, she thought he would get angry but he simply closed the door and left you.

charles spent more time at home than in his hideout.

the morning after you came home from the hospital he moved with his wheelchair to your room. you were sitting on the edge of the bed, with your head down and a hand on your belly. it had not had time to grow much, you were still in the first trimester of pregnancy but you could already notice how it was beginning to swell and become hard.

charles placed a hand on your head and closed his eyes. he could feel the sorrow and guilt, the overwhelming sense of loss. the thoughts echoed in your mind and now also in his. was it something you did? something you didn’t do? there was shame, a feeling of failure that made it hard to look others in the eye, in logan's eyes, afraid he might see the same blame you saw in yourself. beneath it all was the quiet pain of loneliness, even if you weren’t truly alone, and the sense of helplessness that made everything feel out of control.

charles blanked your mind for a few seconds and you sighed in relief.

logan didn’t know how to talk about the loss.

his silence wasn't indifference, he had just never been one to talk about his feelings but it never crossed his mind to leave you alone for a second. only when he had to go to work and he spent the whole night driving and thinking about you. when he came home, he'd crawl into bed with you and hug you from behind. sometimes, when he was gone, laura would take his place and fall asleep next to you. you would end up squeezed between the two of them and in those moments, everything hurt a little less.

every now and then, you’d catch him staring at you, his eyes heavy with a mixture of pain and love, like he wished he could take it all away for you but knew he couldn’t.

you know he was grieving too, even if he never said it aloud, you could hear it in his thoughts. his grief wasn’t the kind that spilled out in tears or words, it stayed locked inside him. he’d work late into the night on something, fixing things that didn’t need fixing, pouring all his energy into tasks that kept his hands busy and his mind focused. and when he finally lay in bed next to you, his breath would hitch, just for a moment, when he thought you had fallen asleep.

you barely had the strength to use your powers, but you needed to know what was going through his mind. you knew that sometimes just being near him was enough. you’d rest your head on his shoulder, feeling the tension in his body slowly ease. his mind became quieter, more peaceful, when you were with him, as if your connection was the only thing that soothed him.

some weeks later, there was a knock on your door. you exchanged quick glances with logan and charles because visitors were rare since you lived in the middle of nowhere so whoever was on the other side couldn’t have come by accident. logan, with a defensive attitude, went to see who was at the door while you waited with charles. laura followed logan, her small figure staying close behind, and her hand gripping the fabric of his jeans.

—the wolverine —. the young woman at your door said in a sigh, surprised.

logan rolled his eyes and tried to shut the door after hearing that name. the girl pushed it with extreme force, making the wood creak and logan and laura had to take a step backwards. laura pulled out her claws while logan was shocked.

she was a mutant.

—oh, sorry. i didn't mean to, i still don't know how to control it.

—yeah? why don't you figure it out away from my fucking property? —he said through gritted teeth and tried to close the door again.

—wait! my mom is a doctor! she works with mutants!

logan was only getting angrier, how did she find where you lived? and what was she suggesting? because it sounded like you were all going to be locked up in a laboratory. he finally managed to shut the door.

—i'm not here to cause any trouble! she knew charles, she studied at oxford as well! i was at the hospital the night you lost the baby! —the girl said from outside the house as silence fell inside of it.

logan opened the door again, angrily, but before he could do or say anything, charles called his name and rolled the wheelchair to the door, his calm presence cutting through the intensity of the moment. the girl's surprise at seeing charles xavier himself alive was even stronger than when she was greeted by the wolverine. —professor xavier... you're alive.

charles smiled faintly and nodded. —now, why don’t you come inside and explain yourself? It seems you’ve come quite a long way.

logan’s shoulders tensed, but he didn’t stop charles. he still didn’t trust the girl, not for a second, but he trusted charles. his eyes flicked to you, not really sure what was going on. laura sat next to you when the young woman entered your house, her eyes never leaving the stranger as she approached to say hello. her small body shifted subtly, leaning forward just enough to shield you.

—start talking, —logan growled —how did you find us, and what the hell do you want?

—i didn't come to harm you or your family —. she said quickly. —my name is amy. i'm named after my mom, dr. amy, she's been working with mutants for years, helping them. she met charles at oxford.

charles slowly nodded. —i remember amy. she was brilliant. she was studying medicine by the time i was finishing my phd in genetics. she had this mutation in her eyes...

amy nodded. —heterochromia, yes, that’s her —. her gaze shifted to you. —i was at the hospital that night, i'm doing my residency there, i'm sorry for the way you were both treated. —she continued, her voice softening with sympathy. —i didn’t mean to intrude, but i’ve been following your situation closely ever since. i… i’m sorry for your loss.

you slowly nodded. you sensed that she had no bad intentions, you had seen it inside her head.

—i looked at your papers and no one in that hospital was following your pregnancy. there were no record of your ultrasound scans, no scheduled checkups. they haven’t even called you for the routine appointments.

the room fell silent, her words hanging in the air like a heavy weight. logan’s reaction was instant. his fists clenched at his sides, his jaw tightening with anger. the realization hit you hard—they had practically left your baby to die, neglecting something so vital, so basic. you wanted to cry. your hand instinctively moved to your belly. the tears threatened to spill, but you held them back.

—what does your mother have to do with us? —logan asked.

—my mom can help you, in case you want to try for a baby again.

you had never really thought about it, the pain of losing the first was still too fresh. logan had never pushed the idea, either. but with this stranger standing in your home, offering hope, you felt something stir inside you. it wasn’t exactly the desire to try again, but more like a door had been cracked open, just enough for the possibility to slip through.

—she has a clinic in the city, —the girl continued, sensing the tension in Logan but not backing down. —she’s helped many mutants who’ve been denied care in hospitals. she has dedicated her life to helping us, not just our symptoms but understanding our struggles. she truly cares.

—why would we trust her? how can we know that she’s any different from the rest? —you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

—because i’m here, —the girl insisted, her voice steady. —i wouldn’t put myself in danger if i didn’t believe in what she does. i’ve seen her work with people who’ve been told they’re not worth the effort. she doesn’t treat us like lab rats; she treats us like people.

after countless conversations with logan and making sure that he was truly ready too, you both finally decided to go to see dr. amy.

the doctor who greeted you was a kind-looking elderly woman with a gentle smile that immediately put you at ease. her eyes, one blue and one green, radiated understanding. you didn’t need to tell her your story—her daughter had already filled her in so you wouldn’t have to relive the pain.

you went to see her several times, although most of them it was you who did the talking as Logan sat beside you, listening intently. he was always there, his presence solid, even if his words were few. after several visits and tests, after long talks and careful consideration, you both finally decided that you were ready to try again.

you stepped out of the bathroom, the pregnancy test gripped tightly in your hand, your heart racing as if it might burst from your chest. he'd been pacing, hands running over his face. the second he heard the door open, he stopped in his tracks, turning to face you. his eyes immediately locked onto yours, desperate for any sign the test result.

—it's positive —. you spoke in a soft, quiet voice.

logan froze, his eyes widened slightly at your words. he stared at you, then at the test, and back to your face again. —you’re… you’re pregnant?

you nodded, tears welling up in your eyes. —yeah, it’s positive.

as soon as he hugged you, the tears started to fall. you couldn’t hold them back any longer—fear, relief, and everything in between overwhelmed you. you buried your face in his chest, your body shaking with quiet sobs. —i’m so scared —. you whispered against him, your voice trembling.

—i know, baby, i'm scared too. but it'll work —. logan held you tighter and kissed the top of your head. you felt how as his hands shook as he gently stroke your back.

logan made it a priority to talk with the doctor at every appointment, asking questions, wanting to know exactly what you needed and how he could help. and he made the pregnancy feel easier in ways you hadn’t expected, he remembered every mental notes he had taken from the doctor.

he’d help you with things like showering when it became difficult to balance or reach certain places. his touch was always gentle, his movements careful, making sure you felt safe and supported. and every night he'd gently rub lotion on your growing belly and give you foot massages, his strong calloused hands rubbing away the soreness from carrying extra weight. you’d close your eyes, sighing in relief, and he’d smile quietly. and when your clothes stopped fitting, it was him who offered up his own. he’d hand over his t-shirts and flannels, which hung loose on you and smelled like him.

laura was too scared to get close to you, her eyes wide with worry every time she saw your growing belly, as if you were too fragile to touch. but as the weeks passed, laura’s curiosity got the better of her, she hesitated before slowly approaching. she looked at your belly, then up to you for permission. when you gave her a soft smile and nodded, she knelt beside you.

she only placed her hand gently on your belly, her touch feather-light, almost afraid to make any real contact. then, she rested her head softly against your bump, her ear pressed close, hoping to hear her future sister. you watched as her face softened. she kept her hand on your belly, waiting, and after a few minutes, the baby gave a small kick. laura’s eyes lit up, her lips curving into a rare, genuine smile.

—she kicked —. she whispered, glancing up at you, as if asking if she was allowed to be excited.

the labor was easier than you had feared, but the pain still came in waves, intense and overwhelming. logan never left your side. he held your hand tightly through every contraction and encouraged you to push. and once your newborn daughter was placed on your chest, logan leaned down, brushing a soft kiss against your forehead as he told you how well you did.

not long after, the door to the room opened and there was laura. she gently approached, her gaze fixed on her new sister. logan stepped aside slightly, letting laura get closer. she stood next to the bed, staring in wonder, and then carefully, she reached out to touch the baby’s tiny hand.

logan was meant to be girl's dad.

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paperclip-skz · 2 months ago

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Not Drinking For a Fun Time

fem*Reader x Bang Chan

*WARNING*

contains: p n v, sex, unprotected sex, kissing, TENSION, straight up delulu, grinding, oral (fem receiving), I'm sure I missed something; let me know in the comments.

WC: 8.7k

a/n: not gonna lie, I'm super nervous because this is my first ever "long fic" that I'm posting and I'm not sure how ya'll will react. This started out as a fluff story and we only meant to be a couple hundred words or so...and then it escalated. Also, my requests are open so if you have an idea and want me to play it out please do not be afraid to send me an ask, I'll pretty much anything fluff, scenario....the dirtier the better hehe

Synopsis: “I’m not a performer, and I’m not a singer. I can’t entertain people. What makes you think I can lie to them?” … this was the goal. Lie to the public about a relationship between you and Chris, but there was no relationship

*****

You're at the bar. Sulking. Wishing you were at home but longing for another drink. Your day couldn’t be worse, from the emotional rollercoaster you’ve been on to all the little things that ticked you off in the worst ways.

The bartender rests another glass in front of you, the cold liquid reflecting the bar's dim light. “On the house,” he gestures to the drink. You nod your head in thanks and lazily grab the drink. You’ve already had enough to make your mind foggy, but not foggy enough. The events of today keep replaying in your head.

“You’ll need to cooperate with us, Ms.L/N.” The shock is evident in not only your face but your tone as well.

“Cooperate? You're asking me to be someone that I’m not.” Your chest heaves with anger, and your mind runs miles with adrenaline.

“Y/N, please,” Chris coos. You whip your head around to meet the leader's and the group's defeated eyes. They have their heads hung low, still trying to process the information given in the meeting.

“I’m not a performer, and I’m not a singer. I can’t entertain people. What makes you think I can lie to them?” … this was the goal. Lie to the public about a relationship between you and Chris, but there was no relationship. In fact, you didn’t know any of the members from Stray Kids.

You didn’t know any of them until you started working in the same building as them. You’d pass them by in the halls, nodding in acknowledgment. One day, you were just off, stressed from all the work and frustrated that nothing was working.

Chris noticed and asked if you were okay, being the amazing person he is. His comfort eased your stress, but anyone from afar could have mistaken his comfort for something else. The next thing you knew, pictures of you and Chris were plastered on every face of social media. Hell, you were even on the news.

Everyone was terrified that the public would react negatively and you wouldn’t be allowed to step a foot out of your own house, but it was the opposite. People swooned over your fake relationship and the idea that Chris had found someone that made him happy, but none of that was true.

The sting of the liquid slides down your throat, and the bitter aftertaste makes your face scrunch. However, the foggy effects of the drink quickly fade your feelings. You notice a few snickers behind you, a pair of girls whispering and staring holes into the back of your head. You ignore them as much as possible while taking another small sip of your drink.

Am I being overdramatic? Should I just go with what they are saying? People already think so, anyway. Thoughts cloud your mind, and you're entirely oblivious to the man who sneakily slides into the stool next to you. You turn your eyes to him and notice the ball cap that covers his face and the oversized black hoodie that hugs his body casually.

He lifts his head to meet your eyes, and you're welcomed with soft brown eyes. You sigh…and groan simultaneously, taking another sip of your drink. “I’m not drinking for a fun time, Mr. Bahng.”

“Then I’m not either.” he raises his finger, indicating a bottle. The bartender quickly sets a bottle of Soju on the counter along with a shot glass.

You both sit there in silence as Chris pours a single shot. He swings his head back, taking the shot with ease.

“What are you doing here Bahng?” your voice mimics defeat.

“Drinking,” his voice is anything but defeat or sympathy. In fact, it almost sounds… optimistic. Your blood boils. How is he not angry, confused, or at least unhappy with the situation? You look at him with disgust.

You scoff under your breath, paying attention back to your glass, “I can’t believe you.”

“Can’t believe what?” he questions.

“I can’t believe you have no reaction. I can’t believe you're not angry. They are asking for us to be in a fake relationship, and you're not the least bit affected,” you whisper, careful not to let anyone hear.

“I am angry, but not in the way you think” he turned his body to you. “I’m angry that you're in this situation. You didn’t ask for this, but here we are.”

“I don’t think I can do this.” You lean forward, caging your head in your hands. Tears are threatening to spill. I can’t lie to the world when I don’t even want this. I don’t want to lie. I want to be able to date and have fun, not be caged to some contract just because someone mistook comfort for something else. I can’t have people watch my every move, just waiting for me to make the simplest mistake.

“Not by yourself, you can’t,” his words lift your head slowly, and your body hangs low in front of you.

“I don’t even know you.”

“That will come with time. Look, I won’t force you into this; no one will. But you need to know that things have already escalated, and if we don’t do something soon, they will continue to escalate. Yes, this is a solution, a messy one, but a solution.” The earnestness in his eyes makes your heart warm and the tears swell. “And you need to know, you're not doing this alone. I might be a stranger, but I’m here, and the guys say I’m a pretty good listener.” his last comment makes you chuckle as a single tear escapes you, rolling down your cheek. Chris instinctively reaches his hand to catch the tear on your cheek; his thumb delicately wipes the salty liquid off your cheek. The touch is simple but sweet, and you hate the way his touch electrifies your whole body. Your eyes meet, gentle brown eyes and a deep dimple smile.

Your heart fills with an unfamiliar warmth, but it's welcomed….slightly. Maybe this won’t be as bad as you might think.

They did offer money, and there's a contract, so does the risk really outweigh the means? Your mind is fighting to keep up with what's morally right and what you want. What do you want?

You do the one thing you’ve always done: count to three in your head, breathe a long, deep breath, and say the first thing that comes to mind. “Okay.” You stare into Chris’s eyes, pleading for him to understand your hesitance. “I’ll do it.”

Chris breathes out a sigh of relief, and you can physically see his body relax on the stool. He takes out his hand, waiting for you to shake it. He gives you a look and raises his eyebrows. It makes you laugh, but regardless, you shake his hand. “Thank you, Y/N.”

“No problem, Mr.Bahng,” you spin in your chair and back to your drink.

“Please, call me Chris,” he nudges your shoulder playfully.

What could possibly go wrong?

*******

3 weeks go by after you agreed to be in this fake relationship. A contract was signed, and rules were in place, but that didn’t stop your nerves from crawling all over your body.

“Okay, run this by me one more time so that I understand completely.”

Stray Kids' head of marketing sits comfortably at the end of the table, scanning you and Chris.

You and Chris, it's hard to think about. Since you’ve both agreed to this, you’ve gotten closer and become close friends. It’s hard to imagine that you barely even knew each other weeks ago, but now, he’s your closest friend, closer than anyone else.

“The press and fans love your relationship; it's actually boosting ratings. Ever since we announced your ‘relationship,’” she air quotes the word, “your fans have been more active.”

You don’t know how to feel; you're glad that the band is getting more attention, but you're also a little nervous. I mean, how long is this little ruse supposed to go on for? “Why do I feel like there is a ‘but’ coming?”

“But, your fans are asking more and more questions. When did you meet? Are you two living together? How involved are you?” She directs each question to you as if you know all the answers.

“So what can we do to ease the questions? Surely, no one can expect us to keep this up forever.” You’re thankful Chris can read your mind.

The marketing head and everyone else in the room hold their breaths. The silence makes your heart thump and sink, “you are, aren't you?” The laugh that escapes you is humorless and breathy. “You are expecting us to keep this up, at least for as long as we can, until someone starts raising eyes, but even then, you’ll probably come up with some way to puppet us out of it.”

Chris looks from you to the marketing head, waiting for someone to answer your accusation. “Well, is that true?” You’re both met with more silence, answering both of your questions. He scoffs next to you, joining you in your humorless acts. “Well, what's your solution then?”

There has to be a catch to all of this. “We suggest that you both…” she pauses, eyes screaming with concern, “start saying that you live together.”

“Just start saying this publicly? That's all?” You wait for the answer to Chris’s question, but when their marketing professional meets your eye with a weary look, you already know it.

“No, they want us to live together and show it off,” you answer Chris before the head of marketing can speak.

Chris is fuming beside you; this wasn’t a part of the deal, “But the contract-”

“The contract states that both of you will keep up this act under any means necessary.” she pauses for a moment, “if the public sees that you are both happy and moving forward, there’s a very good possibility that they’ll be content and move onto another form of gossip. We need to show them that you're both just moving forward like a normal couple.” She tries to make sense of it, even though as you replay her words in your mind, they seem crazier and crazier. You and Chris share the same look of disapproval, but if they were right about this fake relationship, why wouldn’t they be right about anything else? “We just need to keep this act up until something better comes along,” she continues, directing her last comment directly at you, “I promise this will all be over soon. No idol can escape drama of some kind.”

You hang on desperately to her last words, which brings you here and now, moving the last box of your stuff into a small apartment the company paid for. At least you're not spending any real money on all this. You set your box down on the kitchen counter, clapping your hands. “Finally,” you breathe.

You walk around the kitchen counter and into the living room. There's a large couch in the middle and two hallways on either side of the living room. One leads to Chris’s room and the other to yours. It's a small apartment, but it works for your situation. Chris had already moved his stuff into his room; you haven’t seen much of him.

You saunter down the hall to your bedroom and collapse onto your bed. Suddenly, your phone starts to ring. You answer without looking at the caller ID, “Hi honey, how are you?”.

“Hey Ama, I’m good, how is Appa?” the smile reaches your ears as you talk endlessly with your mother. The second this whole thing started, the first thing you did was call your mother. Hearing her encouraging words made the whole ordeal a little less nerve-racking. You couldn’t lie to your mother, the rest of the world…maybe, but not her.

After an hour, you hang up the phone with your mom, bidding her a goodnight. “Jesus, it's late.” You look out into the cold night sky, guessing you kind of lost track of time.

You get up from your spot on your bed and hurriedly get dressed into your sleepwear until your stomach pains with the feeling of being empty. Hunger overwhelms you as you make your way out to the kitchen quietly. You're wearing an oversized sweater and shorts, with your hair up in a messy bun as you enter the kitchen to find Chris eating cereal. “Don’t tell me that’s your dinner.”

“Hey! I will let you know that this is a perfectly normal late-night snack,” Chris says between mouthfuls. He’s wearing a black tank top, showing off his defined arms and grey sweatpants. It's so casual, but why does it make him look so hot?

It makes you chuckle and shake your head, and you slowly make your way to the middle of the kitchen.

The one word to describe the air in the room right now is awkward. What do you do? Do you act like he’s not there and just go about making food? Do you take a snack into your room and leave him be? Maybe he's hungry, but is asking to make him some food too much?

Chris sees the gears turning in your head, “do you want something to eat?” He asks.

“Oh, Um. Yeah, but I’m not sure what to make just yet.” You fiddle with your sleeve.

“There's ramen in the cabinets and cereal in the other one. I’m not sure what's in the fridge, but I’m sure there's some fruit if you’d like.” You nod your head, thinking of what you're craving. “But we can always order something if you're craving something specific?”

He’s so kind. It's the same kindness he showed that fateful day when someone mistook that kindness for something more intimate. You smile at the thought. “Fruit sounds good.” You walk over to the fridge and scan its contents. You settle on some strawberries, take the plastic box, and run it through the sink. You don’t know how hungry you really are, so instead of wasting a plate and taking it to your room, you settle on just plucking each strawberry out of the plastic container.

*Chris*

Chris watches as you wrap your plump lips around each strawberry; his mind spins with different ideas. He thinks of your lips wrapping around his finger, your tongue twirling around his digit. He thinks of his cock springing free and your hand pumping him to full length while your mouth hangs low in anticipation. He leans forward, guiding himself across your waiting tongue…

“So why are you up so late?” Your comment snaps him out of his fantasies. He tries to shuffle in his spot, making it seem casual when, in reality, his sweats have become uncomfortably tight.

“I had some work I needed to finish, and then I got hungry.” he gestures to the now empty bowl, “How about you?”

“I was on a call with my mom, lost track of time, and then got hungry.” You gesture to the strawberry in your hand and slowly wrap your lips around it. Chris looks down, trying not to stare, but then he swallows a groan when he sneaks a glimpse of your bare legs. Shorts. She’s just wearing shorts. Get a hold of yourself.

Chris needs to think of something to divert the conversation. It's too awkward right now, and it's not helping when all he can think about is ripping your shorts off.

“Ho-”

‘Yo-”

You both speak at the same time. Clearly, you are both trying to make the whole thing a little more comfortable. Both of you chuckle at the realization.

“I really hope we can make this whole thing a little less awkward,” Chris says as you start packing the rest of the strawberries and putting the stems in the nearby trash can.

“Me too,” you sigh.

“We’re friends! The only show we have to put on is for the camera”

******

This was a shit idea. He can’t eat, he can’t sleep, he can’t function without a single thought leading back to you. And this “ruse” is going on for way too long.

It's been 3 months. 3 whole months!

But Chris couldn’t lie—it's been the best three months. You’ve both gotten so comfortable with each other that you’ve dedicated Fridays to movie night. Chris will sometimes bring your coffee order to you just because he knows you’d appreciate it, even if he doesn’t drink coffee himself.

You’ve gotten to know each other so well and laughed so hard together that it just feels natural.

He can’t help it. Even before this whole thing happened, he’d always watched you from afar, admired how hard you worked and how beautiful you were. But it was always that—a distant crush.

Until this whole ordeal just planted itself right in his lap. He had to get close to you and take a chance with you. He didn’t care if it was fake. It was a chance.

But tonight, he was cursing at himself for ever agreeing to this deal in the first place.

It had been three months, so the public was starting to ask questions about when they were going to see you at an event…together. So, the marketing team decided that a red carpet-event was the perfect time to show you off to the public.

Just a few pictures, maybe some conversations, but that's it. Then we’ll both be home, and we can just watch a movie. At least, that's what he thought.

You both got ready separately because Chris had an interview an hour before the event. He was waiting by the front for your car to pull forward, and that's when you stepped out.

His eyes widened, and his breath literally caught in his throat. Your dress was long and elegant, with one strap hanging loosely on your shoulder while the other was bare. It hugged your hips tightly to accentuate your best features. The slit was high, a little higher than you’d prefer, but it matched the theme of the dark red dress. The back of the dress was bare and reached down just before the curve of your ass.

Chris took a long, low breath, trying to control the fighting urge inside him. He was staring at the way the dress flowed with every step you took; it was like you were walking on water with how graceful each heel clicked.

“What?”

He took his eyes off your legs and up to your doe eyes, which were smoky. It makes your eyes bright and glow.

“N-nothing. I-” It was hard for him to form words. He knew you were beautiful; he thought about it every day, but he never saw you like this. He always saw you in either comfy clothes or your work clothes, never this. “You look beautiful.”

He could see the natural blush from underneath your makeup, and he melted at the sight of your smile.

“Shall we?” Chris held out his arm.

“We shall.” You took his arm, and he walked you inside the event.

Easy peasy.

***

There were endless flashes and pictures, and reporters were screaming from one side to the other. You and Chris were being pulled from one background to another, everyone begging to get a picture of the happy couple. If only they knew.

Chris was holding the middle of your back, smiling widely at each camera. Your body shivered from his touch. Surely he could feel the goosebumps across your skin. If he did, he didn’t let you know. His previous comment lingered in your mind, and it made your body warm with affection.

He’s wearing a tailored black suit with just the jacket. It was styled so that he didn’t need a shirt to complement the jacket. It was high enough to cover everything but low enough to show his muscular chest. He stole your breath away—there's no better way to put it.

His hold on you could be seen as endearing to the public eye, but you knew his tight hold felt different. It felt possessive. As he guided you from one area to another, his touch became more apparent to you. You could map out the roughness of the pads of his fingers, the feeling of the cold metal from his accessories, and how his palm rested fully on your skin.

It sent tingles through your body, tingles you haven't felt in a while.

At one point, he guided you to another photographer. Your smile falters, the exhaustion getting to you. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Chris turn his head to look at you, studying you. You couldn’t see if he was smiling. All you could tell was that he was looking at you. The photographers must be eating this up.

You focused on trying to keep your smile up until you felt the tip of Chris's finger tilt your chin in his direction. Your eyes meet, and your smile immediately fades. Thinking you did something wrong, you search his eyes, but all you see is warmth. Your worry fades, your lips part, and your mind goes blank. The noise of the photographer fades, the tightness of the dress disappears, and every little thing is gone, the only thing you can hear, see, and breathe is Chris.

His eyes wander from you to your lips and back to your eyes, secretly asking for permission. It's for the camera. You tilt in your head, begging for him to lean in. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips as Chris slowly leans in to graze his lips across yours. He presses a little hard to envelop your lips. His tongue slips across your bottom lip, and his hand on your back itches to touch you more.

Loud cheers ultimately break up your little moment, and Chris quickly separates his lips from yours. The party mask slips back into action when his dimple smile appears and flashes towards the camera.

A few more pictures and smiles and Chris quietly guides you out of the red carpet area—the feeling of his soft lips on your own leaves a tattooed memory in your brain. Finally, you and Chris are inside the elegant building. Art decorates each wall, and people mingle around, admiring the work of the artist, sharing conversations, and enjoying the drinks floating around by the staff.

“I’m sorry if I overstepped. I thought maybe it would be a good idea for the camera.” Chris is quick to answer any accusation that you didn’t have prepared.

“Oh, yeah, you're right. It was a good move.” You try to seem calm and cool about what just happened. I mean, you are cool with what he did; you just wish it lasted longer. “For the camera.”

“For the camera” the last few words come out breathy and soft by the both of you, not sure if either of you truly means it.

“Chris!” shouts of his name come from afar, and you recognize the familiar faces. “Guys!” Chris gives his members a big hug, leaving you to follow close behind. You remember the ones who are here: Hyunjin, Minho, and Felix, all gather to greet Chris.

You leave them to get caught up, knowing they’ve missed seeing each other. A waiter comes by, offering you a drink, and you take it with grace. You know there will be a driver taking you home tonight, so why not have a few drinks? You wander around, enjoying the sight of the beautiful art.

Colors and interesting figures decorate each canvas. You read each name and study the painting, wanting to understand exactly what the artist was feeling when creating each masterpiece.

You stop at a particular painting of a woman. She's surrounded by different shades of black and white, her body covered by just a sheet of cloth. Her bare shoulder and the side of her face are turned away from the view of the audience, seeming like she is trying to hide her naked figure. The cloth in question is splattered with all different shades of red. You examine the title of the piece, “Hidden Lust.”

“Interesting painting?” A voice startles you from behind. Chris stands behind you, examining the painting with you.

You smile, returning to the painting. “How are the boys?”

“They’re good; they asked about you.” A smirk plays on his lips as he studies the painting alongside you.

You hum and examine the brittle strokes of the painting. You both stand there in silence, admiring each delicate brush of paint.

Once you hear Chris's steady breathing, all concentration on the painting goes out the window. You can practically feel it on your skin, sending tingles straight to your core. You and Chris stand a mere few inches apart, your hands twitching to touch.

All thoughts of how the artist could be portrayed in the painting have left your mind; the only thing that haunts your mind is the feeling of Chris’s lips on yours. The fainted memory still makes your skin tingle and your core pound with need. Suddenly the breath you have been holding releases with a long sigh, and you can see Chris suck in a breath.

Slowly, your head turns in his direction, and Chris does the same. You both hold eye contact for what feels like forever, silently sending each other hidden messages. The air between you is so thick it becomes hard to breathe. Your eyes dart down onto his lips, retaining the memory once again, imagining what his lips would feel like if they were placed on other parts of your body.

“There’s the lucky couple!” your moment is broken once again, and Chris is left to greet more flooding guests. Once again, you're left to wander the walls…alone.

***

Where did she go? He’s been roaming around this building for what feels like hours. If he wasn’t stopped every five minutes, maybe he could find you.

It's not until he sees the dark, silky color of your dress he finally releases the breath he’s been holding.

You're walking away from a painting and venturing off into another room filled with more art. He couldn't care less about the pieces hanging on the walls. He keeps thinking about that kiss.

It was meant to be quick, and he meant to slide his thumb right between the two of you so that your lips wouldn’t touch. But the moment was too quick, and the camera was too bright, and before he knew it, your lips were touching. It was like kissing a flower petal, light and soft, and he craved more. He wanted to kiss you so that you would kiss back with the same passion he felt inside, but he couldn’t do that now, not when everyone was watching. He would take what he could get, even if it was just a small, simple kiss.

Leaving the cameras, he could see the confusion on your face, and worry settled in the pit of his stomach. He shouldn’t have done that, not without asking you first, not with cameras taking pictures of your every move, not when the whole world was watching. That's why he blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

I’m such an idiot, he thought to himself.

Calm and frantic battle in his body with each step he takes to you. This room is filled with sculptures on every corner, and smaller paintings hang. The last few people leave the room so that it's just you and Chris. He sees you studying a sculpture of two people holding each other in an embrace. The two mold together with a shared kiss, and what looks to be water made of stone surrounds them. It's quite beautiful, but the person looking at the art piece is even more stunning. His mind screams with the need to feel your lips on his once again, but he forces himself to stand next to you in silence, pretending as if he cares about the art piece in front of him.

“I’m sorry I keep getting pulled away.” He whispers as he slides next to you.

“No need to apologize; you're famous, and people want to meet you.” He can tell you’re holding something back. He’s only known you for a few months, but it feels like years to him.

“Still, I came here with you. I should be at least spending some time with you,” he can’t help but look at you, at the way your features react to his words, the way your chest rises and falls as you breathe, and the way your nails pick at each other. You're holding something back, and it's killing him inside. “Did I-... Did I make you uncomfortable… with that kiss?”

His question physically takes you aback. He's trying to read you, trying to predict what you’ll say next. Everything runs through his mind: you slapping him, you yelling at him, you kissing him-

“No, of course not.” Chris breathes out a sigh. “It's just-” your eyes wander, and his body stiffens…again. “I-” you attempt to say something, “...nothing,” but your mouth shuts, and your attention is back on the sculpture.

Knowing he didn’t make you uncomfortable eases him, but not knowing what's on your mind makes his mind wander. If he didn’t make you uncomfortable, what could possibly be going on in that pretty head of yours?

“Y/N” Chris grabs hold of your arms to turn you to face him. “Please, tell me what's on your mind, or else I might lose mine.”

You suck in a breath and open your mouth to say something. “I just…” your eyes wander once again, but Chris quickly takes his other hand to caress his thumb over your jaw, bringing your attention back onto him. “I just really want-”

“Bahng! There you are!” a tall man with spikey black hair holds his arms out. His suit blinds the both of you as his sequined suit sparkles in the light.

“Oh my god, I’m going to end up in jail tonight if we don’t get out of here soon.” his comment makes you laugh, and his body melts at the sound.

I can’t wait till I finally get you alone.

*****

Hours later, you are finally home, out of that tight dress, and your hair is free. You're relaxing on the couch, watching as the rain carelessly falls out the window. You thought a nice cup of tea would help the cloud of thoughts in your mind, and then you thought the rain would help, but so far, nothing has helped.

The way Chris spoke earlier replays in your mind like a constant dream. The way he touched you, the way his eyes bored into your soul. You were so close to confessing that you wanted more than just a simple kiss; he made you want more of him.

Now you're here, dreading if he walks out here and the awkwardness is back up. You both worked so hard to become comfortable with each other, and you don’t want that awkward tension to fill the room again.

You hear the door creak open, signaling that Chris is out of the shower. He comes out in a pair of sweats and a loose shirt, rubbing a towel over his drenched hair.

“You’re still up,” he says surprised.

“Yeah, can’t sleep. Must be leftover adrenaline from tonight.” that's a lie. It's because stupid Chris won't stay out of your stupid mind.

He nods his head, and you go back to staring blankly out the window. Thick silence, so thick it could be cut with a knife. You could feel the nerve on the end of your skin, and you pray that Chris doesn’t notice.

“Back at the gala, you were about to say something.”

You whip your head around, seeming dumbfounded. “Oh, I-” How do I get out of this? “I don’t remember”

He slumps, looking defeated. “Oh, I see.” The pout on his lips makes your insides turn and ache. What did he want to hear?

“Do you…want to watch a movie?” his innocent question makes you smile. “Sure, I'd like that.”

***

This was pointless. It's not like you’re actually paying attention to the movie. Your mind is clouded with doubts and thoughts, and Chris just sits there, enjoying the mindless action movie you guys agreed on.

He’s so focused on what's playing on the screen. His lips are slightly parted, his eyes glow with every loud explosion, and his brows furrow every time a character takes a hit. It’s fun to study him, it's more entertaining than this damn movie….I wonder if all he’s thinking is about the movie.

***

Why the fuck does she keep looking at me? Do I have something on my face? Maybe she can see right through me and tell that I’ve been thinking about her? Can girls do that?

It is taking every bit of will he has left in his body for Chris to keep looking at this damn movie. He stopped paying attention halfway through it because he got a glimpse of your bare thigh. You're wearing shorts again, and it might actually kill him this time. God, he wants to touch you so badly. He wants to rake his hands through your thighs. He wants you to pull his hair and guide him over your body. He wants you to show him what makes you scream, and then he wants to make you scream his name-

“Do you know what's going on? Because I think I’m lost.”

Chris snaps his head in your direction…shit.

“Uhh…well…you see the guy he… yea, I haven’t really been paying that much attention,” he breathes out a sigh of defeat.

“Really! You looked like you were really paying attention.” if only you knew. “I guess I just kind of zoned out,” he scratches the back of his head, suddenly feeling embarrassed.

“What were you thinking about?” your voice sounds so hopeful, but he can’t stop thinking about you running out of the apartment the second he confesses.

“Oh…nothing”

“Oh,” you went from hopeful to disappointment with a single word, and it made his chest ache. You both sit in silence for a beat too long, watching the movie unfold before you.

He can’t bear the silence. It feels like that first week all over again, and it's killing him inside. “Looks like the storm is passing pretty quickly.”

Your head snaps to him with a quirked eyebrow. You stare at his unphased face for what feels like an eternity…then…The room fills with your laughter. “You want to talk about the weather?”

“Uhh”

More sounds of laughter crowd the room. “What?” he's in utter shock. What could possibly be so funny right now?

“Nothing. Yes, it does look like it's dying down,” but it’s laced with sarcasm; anyone can hear it, Chris, most of all.

His hooded eyes look down at you with a ‘serious’ look. “What?” Your hands are thrown up in surrender.

“Nothing,” he matches with the same tone.

He’s met with your giggles. The light shift of the mood makes his smile wide, and finally, he’s at ease. Finally, you smile again, and the awkward tension dissipates.

Your body stretches in a long yawn, and in doing so, it inches closer to Chris. Over time, your head falls onto Chris’s shoulder, relaxing into his warmth.

Chris’s body is on fire. Every nerve and sense is hyper-aware of your every move; it's like he can feel you without the barrier of his clothes.

His eyes look down, watching you rest in his comfort. He feels like a teenager again, experiencing his first crush. He can feel butterflies in his stomach, and his palms begin to sweat. No one has ever made him feel this nervous.

Your shirt dips down just below the swell of your breasts, and he curses at himself for even looking. He hates the fact that your body has so much control over him, but he loves it at the same time. He thinks about all the ways your body could torture him. Your body wrapped in fragile lingerie that he could rip with his teeth, your naked body underneath him, fully exposed for him-

“Oh my god.”

You’re both startled apart from each other. Chris only takes a minute to follow your shocked eyes down to the prominent tent forming at his pants.

Shit.

“I- um,” Chris scrambles to find a pillow or blanket to cover his bulge. How could this happen now of all times? He expects to hear your screams, your words of disgust, or something that results in him leaving the apartment with his head hung low in shame. But more laughter echoes around the room, and he sees you turned over, holding your belly with giggles.

“I would apologize, but it looks like you're enjoying my embarrassment.”

“It's not that,” your voice cracks with laughs. “I just was surprised. I know you can’t control it.” more laughter fills the room. If only you weren’t laughing at his embarrassment, he would actually enjoy hearing your giggles.

“I have more control than that,” Chris scoffs.

“Then what is it?” You look at him, your smile still shining, while his fades. This is his chance; it's now or never. You could either lock yourself in your room, and he could never see you again, or he could be the happiest man alive.

He takes a deep breath. “I was thinking about…our kiss”.

***

You wish you could say you had an immediate reaction, that you jumped into his arms the second he mentioned you, but you were dumbstruck. Your eyes were shot, and your lips parted in a silent gasp.

“I guess it was a good kiss.” Chris shrugged, his smile mimicking a quiet laugh.

“It was.” You recall the memory, and instinctively, you wet your lips. Chris holds your gaze, not letting you run or cower away again.

The two of you are engaged in a silent battle, each waiting for the other to give in and address the unspoken tension between you. However, you refuse to be the first to make a move, unwilling to risk misinterpreting the situation.

Your breathing becomes shallow and heavy, “I should go to bed,” but you have no intention of moving. Rather than moving, you stay perfectly still, gazing at Chris, shifting your gaze from his eyes to his lips.

Chris inches closer, leaning into you. “Tell me you feel nothing, and I will walk away.”

Another moment of silence settles in the air. His espresso eyes contrast with his pale skin, entrapping you, unable to move, speak, or breathe. His hand comes up to caress your cheek and moves a strand of hair away from your face. “Tell me you don’t feel what I feel,” he says.

Your breath is thick and trapped, and words never make it past your lips. All you can do is communicate with your eyes and beg for him to understand your silence. “I need you to tell me, baby”.

Already breathy and chest heaving with need, you nod your head rapidly and stutter out a “yes.”

Within seconds, Chris's lips are on yours. It's nothing like the previous kiss you shared; this one is hungry, desperate, and has shallow breaths stolen when your lips part but immediately back as if they have been deprived and starved.

His hands cup your face, deepening the kiss. You can feel his tongue silently ask permission, sliding along your bottom lip. You steal another breath, which Chris takes as an opportunity to push his tongue past the barrier of your lips. He swallows your pleasurable moans as your hands tug and pull him closer to your body.

Heat radiates off of him like lust steaming off his body, and you can feel his muscles tense when you rake your hands over his clothes, begging him to remove his shirt.

Chris uses his body weight to push your back flat against the couch; he lodges his leg between your thighs, spreading your legs and pressing against your core. The sudden tension makes you groan into Chris’s mouth, which he devours.

He keeps the tension on your core, slightly rubbing his thigh against it every now and again. When his hands move down, one to grasp you by your hip and another to fondle your breast is when you separate your lips to release the sudden gasp, all the while, you arch your back.

His grip on your hip tightens, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.” his words rasp into your ear, sending shockwaves down every nerve in your body.

His hands hold you close to his body, and all the while, his eyes wander. Words blend into moans and whimpers as Chris keeps your burning core stimulated with his thigh. “How do you want it, baby?” His voice buzzes in your ear, and it shoots straight to your gut, making you needy and excited for more.

“Tell me what you want.” your hands shoot into Chris’s hair, tugging and angling his head so you can kiss him again. You just want him, all of him. With your tongue plunged into his mouth, you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. His thigh moves so his hips join with yours, pushing his growing bulge against your thumping core.

Your lips part and open to say something, but Chris adds more pressure to his hips, pushing his erection against you. What you were going to say dies on your tongue, and your eyes roll to the back of your skull. “I want you so bad,” he growls, hiding his rosy cheeks in the crook of your neck. His hips find a slow rhythm, grinding both your clothed cores against each other.

“Chris,” you moan his name, and you can feel his groin twitch against his pants. Your positive Chris can smell your arousal dripping from you. The wet spot thats gathered at the base of your panties is evidence of it.

“Please,” you whimper, desperate for more of him. He hums in your shoulder before biting the flesh. The sudden pain causes your face to contort, but it quickly subsides as you feel Chris’s tongue soothing the mark, leaving a beautiful love bite behind.

“I never thought I’d hear you say that, fuck, that’s hot” Your mind is fuzzy with how Chris is grinding his erection into you.

Without warning, Chris pulls his body up, only to crawl down between your legs. He makes quick work of ridding your lower clothing. Leaving you bare in front of him. Your pussy clenches from his intense stare, and your face heats when he realizes it. “What? Do I make you nervous when I stare?”

You can feel the heat of his breath against your folds. It makes you clench around nothing…and he smirks at the sight.

Chris starts to kiss your thighs, inching closer to your dripping pussy. Finally, relief washes over you as Chris wets your lips with his tongue. Your hand goes back into Chris’s hair, tugging him closer.

You bite your lip, trying to keep your moans quiet as his wet muscle swirls around your swollen bundle of nerves. You hold back your screams of pleasure, not willing just yet to let him hear you.

“Are you holding back?” Chris peaks up from between your legs. Your hips follow him, begging for him to continue. You both meet eyes, and he can tell you’ve been holding back your screams from him. “Don’t. I want to hear you. I want the neighbors to know my name,” and with that, he dives back between your legs, attacking your clit like there is no tomorrow.

You scream his name in pleasure, grinding your hips onto him. Chris works in tandem in sucking your clit into his mouth and flicking his tongue inside your walls.

Within minutes your coating his chin with your juices and moaning at the relief in your body. Your orgasm washes over you, but that doesn’t stop Chris. He loves the way your pussy tastes. The sweetness he can feel on his tongue electrifies his whole body.

“Chris, I- ahg -wait, I can’t” Chris keeps his previous pace, sucking your clit and looping his tongue inside your folds.

“Come for me, baby. You’ve done so well.” Chris slides his middle finger past your wet folds, curling it up so it hits the gummy spot that makes you see stars. Your legs begin to shake, and your whole body convulses at the added feeling.

“Chris!” you scream his name as your second orgasm squirts onto his shirt. Your legs shut close, and Chris removes himself from between them. He jumps up to kiss your forehead and lips gently. “You did so well for me, baby. I’ve got you,” he coos softly.

One of his hands rubs soft circles on your hips, biding them open again. The ache of overstimulation subsides and your legs begin to open again. Chris kisses your forehead gently one last time, a smirk clear on his face.

Lost in lust, you tug off his shirt, revealing his chiseled abs and defined body. Your eyes go wide, but Chris takes your lips in a hurried kiss. You rake your hand down his pecks to his abs, stopping just before where his V-line meets the button of his pants. You break the kiss to find that his face is contorted to what looks like pain. Worry shoots through you, but Chris snaps his eyes open and cages you below him, his arms on either side of your head, “no one has ever touched me like that.” he breathes…” Do it again.”

***

You both tugged at each other, prying more clothes off your bodies and ending up in your current position. You straddling his lap, rubbing your bare cunt against his cock.

Logic and reason left your mind when Chris had you quivering over his tongue. “Y/N, shouldn’t we-”

But you didn’t want to wait another second. You lifted your lips to guide your folds onto Chris’s waiting cock. You both groan at the pleasure.

Immediately, you start swirling your hips, chasing that pleasure. “Slowly, baby, I’m not going anywhere,” you clenched at his words. You cling to his words. You hope those words are true, even after this night, after this whole contract thing is over. You don’t want this to end. You hug yourself close to his body, grasping his shoulders, and you can tell by the way he holds you close that he’s thinking the same thoughts as you.

You lift your hips slowly only to let yourself settle back down onto his cock. You both relish the feeling, not wanting it to be over too soon; You set a measured pace.

You can see the sweat trickle down Chris’s forehead. His hands claw the flesh of your ass, willing himself not to ram into you. The last thing he wants is for this to end too quickly, and he’ll be damned if he comes before you do.

A mixture of moans and grunts fills the room. Your hips have a mind of their own as they begin to grind into him at a more steady pace. Your nails leave red marks on his shoulders, “I want to see you, want to watch you come,” Chris grunts out.

Something within you snaps. You don’t know if it was his words or the growing knot twisting inside you, but with his words, you lift your hips and slam down onto his cock. You set a brutal pace, bousing on top of him. Chris grinds his teeth but wills his eyes open so he can watch your perfect tits bounce.

You are both lost in the pleasure of each other, and both of you try to chase your release. Chris’s hands grip your waist like a vice, helping you lift your hips in tandem with his thrusts.

“God, you feel so fucking good.” His thrusts become frantic, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix perfectly. With a few more final thrusts into you, you were coming undone onto his cock. Screaming his name and leaving scratch marks against his abs.

His cock plunged desperately in and out of your spasming, creaming cunt, using your body shamelessly for his own euphoric release. The harsh sounds of skin slapping skin and shattered moans and muffled curses echoed off the walls as Chris pushed his cock into you and coated your inner walls white.

You both stilled, with heavy and shaky breathing being the only forms of communication you could muster.

You couldn’t move, could hardly breathe, and your mind was nothing but a pile of mush. It was once you opened your eyes and realized you had been moved, cleaned, and tucked into your own bed did you realize that you passed out in Chris’s arms.

You expected to wake up in his arms, but he was nowhere to be seen. You were left in your own room, alone and cold.

“Chris?” you called, hoping what you experienced wasn’t a dream, that it was real. It sure felt real. Your legs and pussy were still sore just thinking about it.

Worry begins to settle in. What if you did imagine all of it? What if you're back to a feeling that's all too familiar, with uncomfortable tension that sends shivers down your spine and nights filled with longing for what could have been?

“Look who’s finally up.” You turned your head to your door frame, where Chris was holding a bag of food in one hand.

You could feel your shoulders relax, “what, you didn’t think I dish you after one night, did you?” he came closer, setting the bag to the side.

“No, just got me worried.” Chan comes brings his hand up to caress your cheek and you lean into his touch.

*Chris*

You both knew what was coming. Now that the tension has spoken for itself, what does that mean for the both of you?

Chris sits himself on the edge of your bed, taking a breath for what he’s about to say, but you speak first.

“What does this mean now? Is the contract still in place?”

His ears perk up and his eyes widen. He wasn’t about to let you go, no now, not ever. “I’ll be honest. I like you… a lot.” a chuckle escapes him “and I don’t want this to be the end. But I also don’t want to push you, if you don’t want the same.-”

“I do” you interrupt him. Your cheeks flush with that pretty pink that makes him melt and your smile shines high which makes his chest fill with a warmth he’s never felt before.

“You do?”

“I like you too, I wouldn’t have done what we did if I didn’t. And honestly, I could give two shits about the contract right now” you chuckle with him.

“Then how about this…” he twists his body so he can comfortably face you and holds out his hand for you to shake, “a new contract, physically binding.” he smiles, but suddenly changes his tone to a more serious one, “I promise to make you laugh, I promise to piss the hell out of you, but make it up to you, to make you smile, to bug the hell out of you, and I promise that as long as I call you mine, I will love you with all of me.”

Your smile stretches miles and you shake his hand. With heartfelt sincerity, you speak, “I promise to always find ways to bring a smile to your face and fill the air with laughter. I promise to make mistakes, but find ways for you to forgive me, I also promise to love every part of you even the parts you may seem unlovable.” Your voice is so angelic as if it’s softly whispering into his ear.

You both share a tender kiss, feeling the warmth of each other's embrace. As your lips meet, a rush of emotions overcomes you, and you find yourselves entwined in each other's arms. The soft touch of your partner's skin against yours creates an intimate and comforting atmosphere. As you lay in bed, the world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you wrapped in each other's love. In this moment, you both find solace in the knowledge that no matter what challenges life may present, you have each other to lean on.

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mrshesh · 1 year ago

Text

"for... me?" - modern warfare 2 x reader

overview: mw2 men reacting to you giving them a friendship bracelet

pairing: mw2 men x gender neutral reader, romantic & platonic

genre: fluff

a/n: my first mw2 headcanons... i'm nervous about this. i will be eternally grateful if you leave your thoughts and criticisms in the comments, reblogs, or in messages. with that being said; enjoy.

x simon "ghost" riley

Simon is a sweet guy deep down. He appreciates you deeply, and he’d never hurt you intentionally, so you don’t know why you’re so nervous as you’re standing outside his door, your hands concealed behind your back as if you’re hiding an illegal drug.

When you hesitantly open the door to his room, you get greeted by Simon’s cold gaze, which immediately softens when he sees you.

He quickly sees the worry on your face, making his heart ache against his will. He cares about you so much. His mind always races when he sees you upset, his fight or flight response kicks in when you’re hurt, and his face always heats up when you’re smiling. You know this - yet you’re so nervous.

He stands up from his bed, reaching you to open the door further as you step back. He grimaces at the sight of you being so distressed - what could you possibly have done to be so concerned?

“What’s wrong?” He immediately asks, his eyebrows furrowing when he sees the small droplets of sweat on your forehead.

“Nothing’s wrong, Simon. You always assume the worst of me.” You roll your eyes jokingly, feeling calmer when he pinches his nose bridge in annoyance. It’s such a Simon thing to do, instantly making you giggle.

“Well, you’re sweating like a fuckin’ madman. What’s wrong?” He repeats his question, waiting for your response to determine his approach. He is so tense, worried that you have gotten yourself into something. (Although he would never admit that.)

“Give me your wrist.” You say after you take a deep breath, making his eyes narrow in confusion. Still, he extends his arm for you, his other hand resting comfortably on his hip as he observes your every move.

When you reveal your masterpieces, his gaze goes from suspicious to surprised in a heartbeat, his lips slightly parting behind his mask.

You’re holding a friendship bracelet - a black, gray, and white candy-striped yarn bracelet in your hands. Simon quickly takes notice of the bracelet on your wrist because it is identical to the one on your shaky palms. His brown eyes turn to yours, and you swear you can see a faint smile on his face.

“I’m assuming that one’s for me, yeah?” He chuckles, taking the bracelet from your hands to look closer at it. It sure is beautiful - it has some imperfections, which only makes it more precious in his eyes.

He puts it on calmly, twisting his wrist to look at it again when it’s on. His gaze turns to you, one of his eyebrows cocking up at your horrified expression.

“You are that fucking nervous over a bracelet?” He chuckles, his hand finding your head on instinct, patting you gently. “I like it, so you can stop shitting yourself, love.”

He secretly loves it.

When Soap notices that you and Simon are matching, his heart swells up with pride, but he tries to hide the ego boost he got. He feels special, knowing that he is the one matching with you.

He’s experienced so much loss in his life, but he promises himself that he will never lose you nor that bracelet the second you give it to him.

He wouldn’t match bracelets with anybody else.

x john "soap" mactavish

Johnny has suggested getting matching jewelry before! He’s big on showing you how much he cares about you, and he thinks it would be a perfect way to show his appreciation for you.

So you know that he’s going to be ecstatic when you show him that you’ve not only gotten matching jewelry for the two of you, but you’ve made it yourself!

You approach him when he’s sparring, his body covered in sweat and red patches from where he got hit, yet he’s still smiling and running towards you the second he sees you.

The Scotsman instantly notices that you’re hiding your hands behind your back, which sparks his interest enough to try to look at what you’re covering in them.

“What’re you hiding, bonnie?” He asks with a laddish grin, wiping the sweat on his forehead with the back of his hand. He can’t help but snicker when you smile at his curiosity, a huge weight seemingly lifting off your shoulders.

“Can I see your wrist?” “My wrist?” He quickly repeats, seeming a bit dumbfounded. Still, he complies, extending his arm for you to grab while his breathing slows down.

You don’t waste any time, immediately tying his baby blue, royal blue, and navy Chevron bracelet on for him.

He initially looks baffled until he realizes you’re wearing an identical bracelet on your wrist.

Johnny’s face lights up, bringing his wrist closer to his face to inspect the carefully made bracelet, the different colors of yarn complimenting each other perfectly.

“Do you like it?” “I love it!” He quickly exclaims before he picks you up, hugging you close to him as he spins you around, erupting a hearty laugh from you.

“I’m never taking this off, m’eudail.”

And he’s telling the truth!

You will never catch that man without that bracelet on his wrist.

He shows it off to everybody, forcing you to hold your wrist next to his for proof. 😭

If anybody accidentally tugs at it or touches it without permission, he will yell at them. His go-to phrase is: "Hands off, eejit." He's just so dreamy. 😍😭

x kyle "gaz" garrick

Kyle is a sucker for you. He loves it when you think of him, take the initiative to be with him, and do thoughtful things for him - you’re pretty much his favorite person, so he adores it when you do anything nice for his sake.

So you know he will never turn down matching friendship bracelets!

You are playing UNO with Kyle when you finally get the courage to show him the bracelets you’ve made for the two of you. He noticed that your mind was somewhere else the second you two started talking, and his suspicions got confirmed when you eventually put all of your cards down, looking into Kyle’s eyes like you were guilty of a war crime.

“Can I give you something?” You ask, clearing your throat and smiling nervously at him. “Yeah, why not?” He nods in agreement, putting his cards aside to see what has gotten you so worked up. He hates seeing you so tense, but he can’t deny that it’s sparking his interest.

“Let me see your wrist.” You extend your hand, signaling him to place his wrist on your palm.

“Alright.” He utters, placing his wrist on your hand, his eyes alternating between looking at your face and his arm. (I just know his face looks like this 🤨)

His judgemental look soon gets replaced with a look of pure adoration the second he sees the ocean wave bracelet you tied on his wrist, his cheeks feeling like they’re on fire.

“You made these?” He asks after a comfortable silence, his heart throbbing at the thought of you sitting and weaving that yarn between your fingers for hours to create this for him. “Yeah. Do you like them?”

“I love them. You might have to teach me how to make these.”

After that, he quickly grabs his cards again, insisting on finishing the UNO game...

But this time, it’s him whose mind is somewhere else.

He shows it to Price the second the game is over.

Every time he sees you, he goes, “Nice bracelet.” as if it’s the funniest thing in the world.

He has picked up the habit of checking his wrist regularly to see if the bracelet is still there.

x john price

John is a strict sweetheart. You know deep down his intentions are pure, but sometimes you think his mouth could use some soap. His words and criticisms are not for the faint-hearted, sometimes hitting you deeper than any bullet ever could, which is why you are terrified to give him the bracelet you’ve made for him.

You don’t want him to think your gift is superficial since you put a lot of thought and care into making them. You can understand why your tribute may seem cursory, but you hope John won’t think your hard work is shallow.

Still, you take a deep breath and knock on his office door, squeezing the matching bracelets in your balled-up fist as your anxiety levels catapult.

“Come in.” John gives you the green light to enter, which you do hesitantly, clearly looking worried.

John immediately readies himself for the worst when he sees you sit down on the chair in front of his desk, reading your expression like a book. Why do you look so anxious?

“What’s wrong?” He sighs, contemplating what approach he should take to speak to you. What you say next, however, he does not expect.

“I have a gift for you.” You give him a nervous smile, only to be met by silence. You’re waiting for him to say something, your heartbeat’s pace increasing. You don’t feel like being a victim of his harsh words today.

“A gift?” His curious look gives you the courage to place the bracelets on his desk, letting him look at them for as long as he needs. He takes the bigger one, bringing it closer to his face, getting a better look. The bracelet has a zig-zag pattern, the yarn being different shades of purple. It has some design errors here and there, but that only makes it all the more human.

“Did you make these?” He puts it on, looking at it closely as it perfectly fits his wrist. You grab your bracelet, quickly sliding it on before you nod, your skin glistening in sweat.

“Very impressive, soldier. I like it.” He smiles, making you exhale in relief. He likes it. Sweet.

“Why purple, if I may ask?” “Thought I’d bring some color into your boring life.” “...”

He loves it. He always laughs when he remembers your look of terror when you gave him the bracelet.

He discreetly shows it off and then acts surprised when somebody points it out.

He takes it off when he has missions. He doesn’t want it to wear out too quickly and encourages you to do the same.

And no, he doesn’t find it superficial at all. <3

x alejandro vargas

Alejandro has a huge soft spot for you. He’s very open with that fact, so you aren’t too nervous when you present him with the matching bracelets you’ve made for the two of you, but you still feel slightly worried. What if he simply dislikes them?

When you get assigned a mission with Alejandro, you don’t wait! You bring your bracelets with you, keeping them safe and hidden in your pocket until you finally see him again.

He’s the first to walk up to you, kissing the back of your hand to exchange greetings. “It’s nice to see you again, cariño.” He greets, his eyebrow cocking up upon noticing how jittery you are.

“I have something for you.” You tilt your head to the side, looking pleased with yourself. “Really? What have you got for me, corazón?” He can feel his excitement reach the roof. His aura radiates curiosity, making you feel more self-assured and breezy.

Your hand reaches into your pocket, taking hold of both the bracelets inside.

Your confidence skyrockets when you notice his expression change, his heart’s speed increasing when he sees the sage green spiral staircase bracelets in your hand.

“I made these for us. Cute, right?” You smirk when he takes them from your hand, looking at them with such intensity your worry almost spikes up again.

“They’re beautiful, amor.” He says when he finally looks up at you with a grin, his whole body feeling warmer in flattery. His change of expression and body language makes all your worries about this seem insignificant. You can tell that he loves them.

He insists on tying yours on for you. He won’t take no for an answer.

He stares at them for a few minutes when they’re on, feeling his ego skyrocket.

He shows it off to everyone, to the point where Rudy’s getting sick of him. 💀

He has never loved an object more than that bracelet.

If you gift him another one, he will 100% wife you up, no joke.

x könig

König’s a ruthless Colonel. He’s strict and calculated, and he doesn’t let shit slide. But he’s so uncharacteristically soft when he’s around you.

His anxiety-prone heart is so fragile when it comes to you, so whenever he gets confirmation and comfort knowing that you still care about and love him, it only fuels his desire to keep going, to treat you better, and be there for you.

And a friendship bracelet is an excellent reminder. :)

You step into the armory, watching König polish his sniper carefully as he softly hums to himself. He only notices you when you knock on the wall next to you, alerting him that you’re present.

“Hey.” He utters, wiping the lens of his sniper as his blue eyes lock on your frame, his attention shifting to your hands, or lack thereof. You’re hiding them behind your back, endeavoring to conceal something from the Austrian. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes, everything is fine. I was wondering if I could give you something.” You step closer to König, your mischievous grin leaving him curious, wanting to poke for more information.

“Sure, what is it?” He cautiously puts his sniper away, his elbows resting on his knees as his eyes find yours.

“Give me your hand.” You extend one of your hands, clutching his wrist to reveal the bracelets you’ve been keeping out of sight behind your back. König’s eyes widen at the bracelets in your hand, cautiously leaning closer to your hand to get a better look at the yarn armbands.

His expression softens as his focus shifts to you, making you raise an eyebrow at him wonderingly. “So? What do you think?” “They’re beautiful, liebling! Are they for us?” He asks, not wanting to assume that you’ve made one for him. However, his worries get swept away when you snicker and tie on his bracelet for him, allowing him to get a closer look at it. It’s a five-strand braid, the color palette being very military-esque with different shades of green. It compliments his skin and uniform well, recognizing that you’ve put more care into this than anybody has for him.

He quickly stands up from his seat, wrapping his arms around your frame like a security blanket, making you melt in his grasp. You can hear his smile in his words, and you know right then and there that you made the right decision in gifting him this. “Thank you. I will cherish it forever and ever.”

He never takes it off.

He constantly stares at them when you socialize with him. Work-related reasons or not - he can’t keep his eyes off them, a light blush covering his cheeks as he stutters out his words, making him especially grateful for his mask.

He has gotten into the habit of hugging his wrist while he sleeps, keeping the bracelet close to his body to protect it from harm.

He kisses it at least once a day. <3

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ponderingmoonlight · 10 months ago

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Hi hi! I have a req- can you maybe please write a Megumi x reader where they get lost in a haunted house and the reader is too scared to move and Megumi helps her (as a stranger) and then it goes more from that ?

I fell in love with this immediately and needed to write that wonderful request of yours! Thank you so much darling, I'm crossing my fingers you like what I came up with 😭

Getting lost at a haunted house only to be saved by Megumi

Pairing: Megumi x fem!reader

Word Count: 2k

Synopsis: After your friends dragged you into a tunnel of terror at an amusement park despite your irrational fear of creepy stuff, you find yourself lost in your own panic. Until a sudden blue-eyed boy appears and helps you out...

Warnings: your friends are shitty, Megumi is a sweetheart, reader is obviously scared of creepy stuff lol

„This is probably the worst thing you ever made me do”, Megumi mutters, annoyed by the sheer sight in front of him.

When Gojo-sensei told them about a day off, he certainly didn’t see himself going to an amusement park with Itadori and Kugisaki. He should have stayed back, he could have read the new book he just bought, enjoying the silence of empty Jujutsu High while the others were out doing whatever they want. But instead, he finds himself surrounded by crying children with their hands covered in sweets, people bumping into him with every step he takes.

What on earth is he doing here?

“You’re such a pain in the ass, Fushiguro. How about going out and having some fun instead of making it your mission to look as if somebody killed your puppy? Geez.”

“Look, a haunted house!”, Yuji cries out, his eyes glossy from sheer excitement.

“Oh, I wanna go in!”

“I don’t wanna go in”, you protest while your friends literally drag you after themselves.

To be honest, the thought of going into a haunted house alone makes you want to leave immediately. If there’s one thing you hate, it’s creepy stuff. No matter if it’s as innocent as Halloween or things like horror films based on a true story. There is nothing worse than getting jump scared, feeling as if your heart will stop beating any minute, cold sweat running down your neck. No, there is absolutely no way in hell you will step one foot into this cursed place, you’ll just wait here and get some ice cream, you’ll-

“I really don’t wanna do this”, you whine into pitch-black darkness, heavy creepy music making you feel sick in an instant.

Your heartbeat hammers against your already aching chest, palm getting so sweaty that you are unable to hold onto the hand of your friend any longer.

“Hey, where are you? I-I think I lost you guys!”

No response, no sign of life. Just you, the darkness around you and your own blood rushing through your ears.

Fuck, you can’t do this alone. Where is the emergency exit when you need it? Is there somebody else around you?

“H-hello?”

No response, no sign of life.

Panic starts to rise in your chest, disturbing screams, violent laughter and creepy music drowning your head in nothing but thick fear. You need to get out of here as fast as possible.

Your wobbly feet carry you down the dark hallway. But instead of being able to simply sprint through the tunnel of horror, you are greeted by a never-ending hallway that is that is filled with macabre clowns decorating each and every centimetre around you. There aren’t many things that scare you more than strange dolls that look like Annabell herself, but clowns…You hated them since you were a child, no matter how friendly they looked.

And these ones definitely don’t.

“Are you lost, little one?”

That voice is close, too close for your liking. You rest your eyes for a second, pretend that this deep voice that shook you to your core isn’t really there. No, this must be part of the music, a stupid joke-

“I am still here.”

Something touches your arm. Out of instinct, you widen your glossy eyes, staring straight into the maniac grin of a clown.

A real clown.

Not just a doll.

Your body react on its own, a violent shriek escaping your lips.

Run.

As fast as you can, past the clown decorating the wall, straight into nothing but darkness while this little voice inside your head can’t stop laughing about your pathetic self. How old are you? 10?

It doesn’t matter. Your frightened eyes are darted fowards, adrenaline pumping through your veins while all you can think about is stepping through that door, getting out of this living nightmare as soon as possible. You just need to push yourself a little harder, get through this dark hallway right in front of you and it will be over, you are almost there-

You see stars. Before you are even process what happens, you bump into something hard and fall straight onto the floor with your head spinning in confusion. Was is a wall, a door? No, the dim light shows you the outline of a person. Your guts turn in an instant, the horrifying face of that clown you saw seconds ago still haunting your mind. Please, not another one of these actors.

It stretches out his hand, ready to grab you.

“NO!”, you scream on top of your lungs, crawling backwards in a desperate attempt to escape those fingertips.

Megumi can’t help but stare at your puny figure in sheer disbelief. Why the hell are you so scared? And why are you here on your own? Your thick and heavy breaths hang in the air between you both, distracting him from his mission to find a way out of here after Itadori and Kugisaki ran away like some 4-year old kids.

“Calm down, I’m just trying to find my way out of here”, he calmly announces.

You blink against the darkness around you, too stunned to say a single word. That is definitely a boy with a voice that could calm down entire oceans, making your heartbeat tame down in an instant.

“Let me help you up, okay? Give me your hand.”

There it is, his big hand stretched out in front of you. Like in trance you take it, palms still covered in cold sweat when he lifts you off the ground with ease. In the dim light you aren’t able to see anything but the outline of his features, his tall and actually quite muscular frame.

“We’ll get out of here together, just don’t let go of my-“

In the matter of seconds, your whole body clings onto his arm for what feels like dear life, nails digging into his firm biceps without mercy. He can’t leave you alone here like your friends did, there is absolutely no way in hell you’ll let go of this boy.

Much to Megumi’s fortune, the room is so dark that you can’t tell the deep blush creeping up his face. You’re a girl with a voice sounding so angelic that it caught him off guard, with your breast pressed against his arm-

Oh god.

“Let’s go”, he mumbles.

He forces himself to stare in front of him, to not risk a look at you while tumbling down the dark hallway with you by his side. But the second he opens the next door filled with red lights, his gaze wanders to his left side, gets greeted by your doe eyes immediately.

Time stands still, Megumi’s heart pounding as hard as yours when all he does is staring at your way too gorgeous but frightened features. You have to be around his age, even though it’s hard to tell in that strange light. But oh your face definitely matches your angelic voice.

“Thank you for not leaving me alone”, you mumble against his arm, eyes directed towards the next door ahead of you.

“There’s no need to thank me. How did you end up in here anyway if you are this scared?”

“My friends forced me and left me after the first door on my own.”

Megumi huffs in response. Well, that definitely sounds way too familiar. When he sees these two idiots again…

“But aren’t they aware of the fact that you’re scared?”

“Everyone is. But I guess they just thought it would be funny…”

“It’s not”, Megumi replies in an instant.

“You don’t deserve this. It might not make sense to them, but you are stressed. And no friend should want to see you like this for their own amusement.”

You swallow hard, still holding onto his arm tightly. Of course you know that he’s right, that your “friends” aren’t suppose to treat you this way. But you’d never say it out loud, would never confront them.

“Hey, what’s your name?”

His voice catches your attention just before you start to panic over another set of creepy dolls laughing in the corner, his arm moving you closer to him.

“Don’t look at them. Look at me.”

When you gaze up at him again, his world stops spinning for a minute. You really seem to trust him, your hands still intertwined with his arm, your body firmly pressed against his side. You look so lovely, seem like such a nice person. It becomes more and more personal to get you out of here.

“I’m sure we are close to the exit. Focus on me, okay?”

“My name is (y/n)”, you suddenly blurt out.

“I’m Megumi Fushiguro. Nice to meet you (y/n).”

Out of his mouth, your name sounds so relaxing, so melodic. His calm voice really suits the ocean of his dark blue eyes that never break contact with yours even though he walks down the hallway with you by his side.

“I think this is the last door.”

With a swift motion, he opens it. Slowly but surely his features get light up by lantern light, the cries and screams from the amusement park ringing in your ears again. You take a look around you.

He really did it.

You made your way out of the tunnel of horror.

“Thank you so much for helping me out”, you mutter, pulling him into a tight hug before you are able to stop yourself.

What would have happened if he didn’t find you, if he didn’t keep a cool head and lead you through the right doors? You rest your head against his broad chest, heartbeat calming down completely. How lucky you are to have met him.

“Oh – uh…No problem at all”, he mutters.

Megumi has to tell himself over and over to keep a straight face, to not allow himself to turn redder than the devil himself. But you hold onto him so tightly, so thankful for nothing but the fact that he guided you out of a haunted house.

“Who’s that girl, Fushiguro?”

You let go of him immediately, eyes darting towards a girl with short brown hair coming your way while dragging a pink-haired boy behind her like a bag of trash.

“After you left me alone in there, I met (y/n) and she helped me finding a way out.”

“Nice to meet you (y/n)!”, the other boy greets you instantly, a kind grin plastered on your face.

“Oh, you shouldn’t have helped him, Fushiguro fits just right in a tunnel of horror”, the girl comments dryly.

“There you are! We thought the clowns already ate you up!”

Oh no, not now, not in front of him and his friends. You want to sprint away, to hide yourself from your “friends”. But instead, all you can do is stare blankly why both of them approach you with a toxic smile.

“Is this what you consider funny? Dragging (y/n) in there and leaving her alone even though you know she’s scared?”

Megumi’s body tenses up immediately as he positions himself between you and the other girls. They really have some nerves, approaching you like this after what they did. There is no way he’ll let them get away with that.

“Huh? Who the hell are you and why would you care?”

“Because I was scared as well and (y/n) helped me to find a way out.”

He glimpses at you for the split of a second. It’s more than crystal clear that he’s lying. You need to stand up for him, defend him, tell them the truth.

“Oh, you’re braver than I thought (y/n)”, one of them mutters.

“Yeah…Well…We see each other tomorrow, okay? Bye?”

And with that, they disappear into the evening, their awkward walk leaving you speechless for a second.

“Promise me you’ll never let them treat you like this again”, he finally speaks up again.

“I…I promise….”

“Can you just give her your number so that we’re able to grab something to eat? I’m starving”, the girl next to him complains.

“Yeah, I’m super hungry as well!”

“Can’t you just shut up for a minute?”, Megumi hisses under his breath.

“But…would you mind giving me your number?”

-Bonus-

"Megumi-chan!"

His steps quicken in an instant, carrying down the hallway of Jujutsu High at high tempo. If there's one thing he's not in the mood for right now, it's definetely Gojo-sensei. Itadori and Kugisaki probably told him ever little thing about you.

"There's no running for me. Tell me, who's the girl you've been with today?"

He can't help but roll his eyes, the wide grin on his teacher's face simply driving him insane.

"I just met her today", he mumbles in response.

"Don't forget to use protection, I don't wanna be a grand-"

"CAN YOU JUST SHUT UP"

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Gorgeous dividers by @saradika-graphics

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istoleyoursk1n · 11 months ago

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How do you think the companions would be with a tiefling gn Reader who's insecure about their horns and tail / just in general being a tiefling? Idm which companions!

•❅───────────✧❅✦❅✧───────────❅•

How would they react to a tiefling Tav who's insecure about being a tiefling?

(Little note, I personally love tieflings, I think they're so pretty)

: ̗̀➛ ASTARION

“Oh, poor thing, you’re gorgeous! Whoever told you weren’t? My, you’re simply the prettiest little tiefling I’ve ever had the pleasure to see, and trust me, darling, I have seen many.”

Baffled that this would be something you’d be ashamed about. I mean, he’d tell you to your face if you were hideous but he hasn't now has he?

He doesn't quite understand what's there to be insecure about, you look just fine in his eyes but if you need his honest opinion then he’ll give it to you.

He thinks tieflings are fascinating in their own right.

With long curled horns, rigid skin, and a gaze as intense as the fiery pits of hell, you’re not exactly the worst thing he's seen.

He’s not a poet but he’d show you how much he adores every inch of your body to prove just how stunning you are in his eyes.

Damn anyone who says otherwise, he’d reject the heavens in favor of a more hellish embrace that comes in your shape.

He really likes touching your horns/grabbing onto them, he’d never explain why but the texture of them under his cold fingertips is something he pleasantly enjoys.

: ̗̀➛WYLL

“Love, you are above the heavens itself. No angel could compare to the warmth I have found in your every touch. You’re someone I am proud to call my lover, horns and all.”

He gets it, I mean he was turned into some sort of devilish fiend by his wretched patron.

He understands how it could make anyone feel insecure. The horns feel heavy, your skin isn't as smooth as most, and there are cases in which people easily judge you for what you are.

Though, are those reasons to make him love you any less? Absolutely not.

You looked at his transformed self and still chose to love him, so of course he’d do the same for you. In fact, he loves you even more now.

He’d call you beautiful in every way he knows how, concealing each thought of you in words that all come to praise everything that you are and more.

Besides, there's something rather poetic about two devils dancing in the moonlight.

Would compliment every part of your body you feel the most insecure about on a daily basis so that perhaps someday you’d love yourself the same way he loves you.

He’d fall in love with you and those fiery eyes again and again if he could. You hold his heart.

: ̗̀➛GALE

“No magic can compare to the spell you’ve cast upon me. Akin to a moth drawn to a flame, I will gladly fall into your fiery embrace.”

Upset that you view yourself in such a way.

He understands that a bad light is often shed amongst tieflings but he didn't think it would affect you to this degree.

He’s completely in love with every bit of you, he can't bear seeing you hate yourself like this.

If anything, this gives him more of a reason to praise you more, going above and beyond to make you feel like the god/goddess he sees in his eyes.

He’d speak in loving whispers about each and every part of your body so that not an inch of you goes unloved.

He loves staring into your eyes, they dilate and pulse in a way that bewitches him to a point where he’d rather meet your gaze than look up at the stars.

You could describe yourself in the most downright horrendous way possible and he’d still look at you with the most smitten expression you've seen a man hold.

He’ll help you get over your insecurities little by little, doing everything he can to make you see yourself as the specialty you are.

: ̗̀➛KARLACH

“What?! Why would you be? You’re only the greatest thing that's ever happened to me! The hottest thing to come into my life! You’re amazing.”

I mean she gets it, there's a dark stigma around tieflings that she faced herself. For a long while, she was seen as this brutish devil who’d kill children!

But tieflings can be cool, she thinks tieflings can and are badass! There's nothing else like them.

Would constantly reassure you that there's nothing you should be ashamed about, you’re amazing as hell and she loves you for it.

Fuck anyone who tries to slander you for who you are, she’d gladly set them ablaze.

The constant heat she feels on a daily basis is nothing compared to the burning feeling you give her. It makes her go weak at the knees.

Very direct about how much she loves the way you look, it's impossible for anything she says to be a lie.

She’d scream it out loud for the hell of it, making sure all of Faerûn knew how gorgeous you were with all your devilish little features.

She thinks the tail and horns are hot, nothing you say can make her ever think otherwise.

She’ll love you until every part of her body burns into ash in the hopes that by then, you will have learned to love yourself.

: ̗̀➛SHADOWHEART

“Hm. Well, I suppose we all have our own insecurities… if it makes you feel any better, I think… no. I know you’re beautiful. You’re beyond every loving word I could ever use to describe you.”

Surprised by this but she doesn't take it against you. Instead, she’ll find her own little ways of helping you out of your insecurities.

The stigma around tieflings is bad but it is something she herself can relate to with once being a follower of the goddess Shar and the misconceptions that come with it.

Gentle reassurances of your appearance and her love for you would constantly come unprompted.

She’d notice you sadly staring at your horns in a reflection and she wouldn't hesitate to walk up to you and remind you about how pretty they are.

If she sees you scratching and your rigid skin, she’d come up to you and gently take your hand into hers, proudly confessing how much she adores your skin.

She wouldn't bombard you with compliment after compliment but she'd certainly be there if the self-hate gets too much.

She would carefully drag you out of that darkness just as you did for her.

She’d gently drag her fingertips across your horns and every rigid part of your skin, entangling her hand into your tail if not for a simple display of affection.

There's not a single part of you she hasn't come to adore and she’ll make sure that in time, you’ll come to adore those parts of you too.

: ̗̀➛LAE’ZEL

“Insecure? How could someone like you be ‘insecure’? Your mind has no place for such degrading thoughts. You’re better than that.”

She doesn't quite grasp the concept of being ‘insecure’ about something other than it being a sign of weakness hence her confusion at first.

She sees you as a brilliant warrior, someone she deeply admires, how do you find yourself hating anything about yourself?

She sees no reason for your self-loathing and may across as rudely direct such as telling you to simply move past it.

But soon enough she’ll realize how much these ‘insecurities’ of yours may be affecting you and go out of her way to try a different approach.

She’ll start off by saying how being a tiefling doesn't make you any weaker or lower than anybody else, in fact, you are more than worthy of praise and respect.

She believes every part of you is attractive, you’d never have to worry about her ever falling out of love for you.

Besides, aren't tiefling’s fire resistant? That's another thing you should be proud of, some do not have the privilege of being able to withstand strong flames.

It's mostly listing every advantage your body holds against others before ever so subtly squiggling in an actual sweet compliment that she sort of hopes you don't pick up on.

She couldn't have asked for a better partner, you are far better than anything she could have wished for and she wouldn't have you in any other way.

: ̗̀➛HALSIN

“Nature has built you in the shape of beauty, my heart, every part of you was intended to be loved. Even the prettiest of roses are put to shame in you’re presence.”

He looks more hurt than you by the newly found information.

He believed nature had made all its creatures perfect to every single degree, that includes you.

He could hardly bear hearing you degrade yourself in such a way, not when you’re the most precious thing he's ever laid his eyes upon.

He’d have to sit you down, and allow both of you to discuss your insecurities and where they could have possibly stemmed from.

After which he goes on an entire monologue about how deeply infatuated he is with you and everything that you are, horns and tail included.

If anything, he thinks your horns and tail are adorable. You’re the very peak of beauty in a world filled of glorious things.

He’ll compliment and praise every part of yourself you've come to hate until you’re a speechless, blushing mess.

Try convincing him otherwise and you might as well faint from the amount of sweet little whispers he’d be sending your way.

There is no way he's letting you get away from this without feeling like the most loved thing on this planet.

•❅───────────✧❅✦❅✧───────────❅•

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 headcanons #bg3 headcanon #bg3 astarion #bg3 karlach #bg3 halsin #bg3 lae’zel #bg3 wyll #bg3 gale #bg3 shadowheart #bg3 x reader #astarion #karlach #halsin #lae’zel #wyll #gale #shadowheart

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appleblueberry-pie · 6 months ago

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Yandere Miles with a darling that knows his secret and doesn't know how to further proceed their relationship afterwards. Maybe they found out in one of the worst ways by finding him banged up from his encounter with a villain and decided to heal him, but in the process of this finds out who Miles is. But here is the thing, there was a strain happening in him and his Darling's relationship because of the lying ( and manipulation ) Miles would do when he tried to cover up the concerning behavior he was exhibiting. However the darling is smart enough to see through it and does not like it at all. So finding out he's Spider-Man was final block that put their relationship on hold. So what would Miles do on this hiatus that he and his darling his under? How would he react to it?

Are You Ever Truly Sorry?

Out of all times that he decided to show up at, it's when you're feeling like shit. And even then, he found a way to make it worse. You can't even brood on the edge of your bed in peace. You couldn't think about feeling like he was lying to you the entire time without him showing up, staining your mom's carpet with his blood. You couldn't sit here and cry when you felt most vulnerable when he drags himself through your window in the cold dead silence of night, damn near looking like he's dying. You wished you could hate him.

Miles wants to leave. He doesn't like the look you're giving him. He has a million and one excuses on his tongue, but none would solve this issue like the truth would. Even when he shakes his head, when he groans in pain, unable to formulate words, you don't move. You just stare at him like he was the biggest mistake you've ever made. And he loves you too much to ask you why you could possibly feel that way, and crush his own heart.

Your name is on his tongue, his fingers reach out to you when you silently get up to find your medical kit, but no efforts reach you.

When you return, you take off all of his gear. His mask. His stained claws. His clothes. You drag his duffle bags into your room before closing your window to conserve heat.

You rip off what was stained to find the source and patch what you can to the best of your abilities. Your touches are soft and thoughtful, but he can't help but feel like he's ruined everything between the two of you. You can't even look him in the eye.

The tension was killing him and he had to break it. His cold fingers brush against your unharmed and warm cheek, softly brushing against it. "Mi todo,"(my everything) You slowly move away from his hand and shake your head, packing the stuff up that you took out.

Your face hardens, he can see you're deep in thought and wishes his burning body would do what he wants and cradle you in his arms. With a strained voice, attempting to stay silent, you calmly state, "I can't keep doing this with you."

Miles finally sits up and attempts to disagree with what you say, not wanting to know where you're going with that statement, but your hands are already shaking, your mind made up. You begin whisper yelling to him, praying your mom doesn't wake up. "Every day, you lie to my face, you tell me we gon' do shit to fix it, and it never happens. You try so fucking hard to make it seem like it's alright, but fucking look at this!!"

You storm back over to him and show him his own weapon. "Two years! Two fucking years of you just for yo ass to show up at my window dying." You drop his claw and wipe your face of the stray tears. Miles arms and legs scream at him as he attempts to stand, moving at a turtles pace. You've begin pacing back and forth, not knowing how to regulate your emotions. Your boyfriend is the Prowler, he's been lying to you like it's second nature, and your head hurts so damn bad.

Once Miles is on his feet, you're already in front of him. It's almost like a debate, the way you two go back and forth. "I can't date a fucking liar, Miles," You calmly whisper.

"I know, baby. But you gotta let me explain," He whispers back.

"I've heard enough. You've been lying through yo teeth on some gangster shit, and I don't want any part of it, okay?"

"It's not like that, mami, please-"

"Don't fucking do this right now, Miles. I saw what's in the bag, and I'm scared, okay?? I don't even know what the hell think of you right now."

You could see Miles begin to shake as well, but you damn well didn't expect his sputtering and the tears in his eyes. He aggressively wipes his face of the tears and a single harsh sob leaves his lips. "Y/n, please. Just- fuck, just let me stay, okay?" He takes a moment to swallow the ball of stress in his throat. "You ain't got shit to do with the bag or nothin I'm doing, baby. I wouldn't ever hurt you, ight? Shit. I just don't wanna lose you, too."

And it breaks your heart. Because you love Miles. And seeing him like this is the last thing you want for him. But you just....can't lie to yourself or let him lie to you anymore. At least, not until he gets himself together. Because whatever he's doing in those streets is tearing the both of you apart.

You don't look him in the eye and feel your own tears coming along. You hate how you let him wipe them away softly, you hate how you let him hug you, knowing he's in pain. You hate all of this.

"You not gon' lose me, Miles. I just...I want a break."

You said you needed a few months. He couldn't get you to specify how long that would be. Now he's almost always on edge.

He's trying to find a way to take at least a month off of his nightly crusades without leaving his city in shambles, but even Uncle Aaron is having trouble finding a reason for that to even happen. He can't know about you. So, he decides to keep his mouth shut and continue doing his job.

Miles decides to also stalk you after school since you two aren't together during that free time period anymore. And every day, he sees your features softening more and more. Was he really putting that much weight on your shoulders?

All this does for him is continue to make him feel like shit. He's done too much to you and doesn't deserve any of it. He has to make it up to you. Even though you two are apart, he knows that you know that you're his still at the end of the day. And that he's yours.

He tried not to get back in the habit of kidnapping the boys infesting your personal space at school, but once he noticed them piling back up at your locker like when you first started dating him, he knew he had to step in.

The good morning letters he used to slip in your lockers came back, but now you don't respond. He doesn't need you to, not when he sees that smile on your face when it falls into your hands.

The shy glances from across the hallway came back, and it's like freshman year all over again. You look better and better each day. If this break meant it will heal you, it will help him, too.

He will find a way to have you in his arms again, he's sure of it.

#atsv #yandere atsv #miles morales #earth 42 #earth 42 miles morales #miles morales x reader #yandere earth 42 miles morales #yandere miles morales x reader #yandere miles morales #yandere x reader #yandere

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signedeclipse · 2 years ago

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Hello, it's me again! 🫣 I loved your headcanons about the blind reader! Especially the ones with Hantengu. 😊

This time I would like to request headcanons for Hantengu, Gyokko and Douma with a reader who has a chronic disease. I know this is a serious subject but it's very close to my heart because I suffer from one. I wondered how the demons would react to a partner who has chronic pain and often feels sick. They feel frustrated with themselves and get angry when they can't do certain things because of their illness. I can imagine that they envy the demons for their strength and health and have thought about becoming a demon themselves. They sometimes push themselves too much because they want to keep up with their demonic partner. But when their illness isn't flaring up, they always want to be as active as possible and be close to their partner.

Thank you in advance! Hope you have a wonderful day! (⁠✿⁠^⁠‿⁠^⁠)

Douma | Gyokko | Hantengu [X Reader]

In which their s/o is struggling with their chronic pain and tries to push it aside.

Douma

He was always glad that the cold climate you had living with him helped, since for many it was more harmful than helpful

He was familiar with the idea that coolness helped inflammation and helped your body regulate, but he also had to make sure you weren't overdoing it and getting yourself sick

Douma can almost feel your guilt whenever he steps in, so he does his best to remind you in ways that seem less like him telling you

'Can you warm my jacket for me?'

'Could you get the fire started and watch over it until I get back?'

While it may feel good, it makes you more prone to staying out too long and medicine can be hard to get his hands on during certain times

The worst part for him is being so high ranked, because he knows you know of his strength

Will hide it and down play it all the time in hopes you stop thinking about it so often

How impressive could it be if it hurts his favourite human?

Douma would like you to join him in being a demon someday, but he hopes its because you want to be with him as opposed to because you want to escape yourself

Gyokko

His poison art was actually inspired by the fact that he produces a lot of antidotes for some of your more physical ailments to help soothe the feeling

Think aloe vera but so much better

Might even say you can only get it if you hug him so he can produce it where you touch him, but he won't force it if it's really bad and you just want to rest

He has fought in front of you before, so you've seen his regenerative capabilities and the ways he bounces back in seconds, its honestly irritating at times

If only you could sprout a new immune system, or some new joints

Gyokko insists that it's painful and more excruciating than it seems, but he's kind of lying just because he doesn;t want you to feel so inclined to demonise

He makes mini pots for the medicines and salves he learns to make with cork lids so you can use them when you need

Your own personal pharmacist but so so so much better

Hentengu

He's always found himself to be extremely weak and unlucky

But you manage to be so much more unfortunate than him, so he worries for and cries for you more than he does himself

You were so kind to love him, and yet the world cursed you terribly? It's so unfair

Worries that you could die anytime from your ailments even if you tell him that isn't how it works, so he prefers to remain in a range of you to which he can hear your breathing or heart rate

The clones are more than happy to keep you in shape, but Sekido especially keeps you from trying to match them in any way shape or form

"It's ridiculous to expect results like this as a human, we have lived for centuries you haven't."

Whenever you feel light headed or need fresh air Urogi will take you for a little flight, usually by a body of water such as the ocean to enjoy the best air possible

Karaku just jokes that he has enough muscle for the both of you so you'd be greedy to get even more muscular, I mean, leave some for the rest of the clones!

Hates the idea of turning you into a demon but any day if its really bad and you are in enough agony he would do it just to see you smile again

Authors Note - Originally I wasn't planning to do this request because I don't suffer from any chronic pain, but a friend of mine who does decided to beta read so here we are! I hope these can help in some way, wishing you the best <3

#douma #douma x reader #gyokko #gyokko x reader #hantengu #hantengu x reader #demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer headcanons #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kny #kny x reader #kny headcanons #headcanons #x reader #reader insert

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byechristopher · 1 year ago

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can you make a pt.2 of “i want more” but like the middle of it….idk maybe chris asking his brothers advices about what to do and ugly crying, writing the letter….just an idea bc i’m mesmerized with this fic and you writing

I Want More. [0.2]

– CHRIS STURNIOLO ANGST & FLUFF.

PART ONE.

Author's note: thank you so much for the request, love! I loooove the idea that you gave me so, here you go, Chris' side to the story. Do not copy/steal my work. :)

Warnings: mentions of alcohol and w33d, little bit of angst. But that's pretty much it.

Playlist:

"Chris. I think we need to stop this thing between us."

I freeze. What?

I am pretty sure I look like a crazy man, because my eyes are wide open and I completely freeze. I can't quite understand what is going on inside my head, or my body, but something makes me feel like throwing up.

"What? Why?" I whisper and I wish I never asked that question.

"I don't feel like doing it anymore, sorry. It's for the better." she is cold as ice, I see her standing up, searching for her clothes. There's nothing I can possibly say that won't sound utterly insane. So I just watch her.

She is stiff and quick, she looks like she wants to be out of my house immediately. As soon as possible. I watch her leave.

It is the first time that I watch her leave and I can feel my chest becoming empty all of a sudden. I quickly put on my sweatpants and I run down the stairs, chasing after her but by the time I reach the door, she is already in the car.

Fucking hell.

A few days have passed since that incident and they have been the worst days of my life, I think.

It's only 10PM but I try to get some sleep, I don't want to stay awake for too long, because my thoughts will go wild again. But as soon as I close my eyes, I can feel my chest hurting, a knot in the stomach, a lump in my throat. It feels horrible. So horrible that I tell Nick.

"You know it's because of what happened with that friend of yours, right?" he emphasizes the word "friend", rolling his eyes sarcastically.

"Nick, I'm fucking telling you.. actual pain. Cut the bullshit!" I am so frustrated.

He shrugs and widens his eyes, practically face-palming his face, "Chris, you're in love with the girl, just admit it and shut the fuck up so we can all go to sleep!" he groans.

"Fucking hell, Nick. I shouldn't have told you anything!" my fist meets the table but Nick is unfazed. He knows my anger issues appear when I am feeling like this.

"Chris, I'm being serious. You're denying it so much that your body started to react to it. This is an actual thing that happens. And no matter what I tell you, you won't listen to me." his voice is calmer now and I know he's being serious, "so grow a pair and just tell her already!" he yells and turns to the other side, covering himself with a blanket.

"You've been really fucking helpful, Nick, thanks!" I scoff, closing the door behind me and then going back to my room.

This cannot be the case. Nick is just being an ass. But why does my chest hurt again now that I think of her?

I don't know how long it's been but I've been drinking. I don't know why, I'm not this type of person but, well, happens to the best of us. I try to find my lighter, grabbing the blunt I rolled just a few minutes ago, and heading outside so that I can smoke in peace.

I am outside of her house and I don't know how or why, but it feels right. I feel the need to cry, God, I am such a pussy. I call her. The moment I hear her voice, some tears escape my eyes. I cannot understand.

She comes outside and we start talking, with every word we say, my chest hurts even more.

".. that's not how friends with benefits are, Chris." there's not a way I can actually reply to her because she's right. That's not what friends do, but fuck, I'm scared.

I chew on my bottom lip nervously, "I don't know how to do this. I thought you liked how things were."

What the fuck am I even saying? I just keep messing up. But what she says next, messes me up.

"I want more", "grow a pair", "I want nothing to do with you".

Nick's words reappear in my head and I want to fucking run away. Instead, once again, I do what I do best. I suck it in and I fuck up, "so is this the end?" even the words feel heavy on me.

"I suppose so. Yes." I nod, my jaw is clenched and I can feel my heart breaking again. I turn around quickly, about to leave, because I can't keep my tears in place anymore. I hear the door shut behind me and I burst.

I turn around, walking towards her door again, drunk, high and ugly crying like a little boy. How embarrassing it would be if she ever saw me like this.

I don't remember how, but apparently I went home at some point, because I wake up in my own room. I immediately run downstairs to find Nick and Matt in the kitchen.

"I need help." I clear my throat.

"No shit." Nick rolls his eyes and Matt laughs.

"No, seriously. I need help. I went to her house yesterday. Drunk. And crying." Matt turns around to face me and so does Nick. They did not expect that, neither did I.

"Oh wow. You're actually in love." Matt continues to sip on his juice, and Nick slaps his hand over his mouth dramatically, "don't say that word, Matt! He'll go crazy." Nick says and I sigh.

"No, you're good. Because you two are right. And she's right. She confronted me, told me to grow a pair." I let my head fall on the hard surface of the table, forehead pressed against the wood. My brothers are both looking at me.

"Yeah, it was about time." Matt agrees and I would normally punch him, but I'm just a mess now.

"What do I do?" I groan.

"Go to her house again", "call her, duh", "send her flowers", "buy her chocolate?", "oh my God, plan a romantic date!".

The list of suggestions was long, needless to say, but it still just.. wasn't right. Then an idea came up and I stood up abruptly.

"Wait, I know!" not wanting to lose the creativity or the courage, I quickly run to them, giving them both a kiss on the cheek (which made us all cringe, but it's fine), and then quite literally run to my room.

I am outside of her house again; I've already knocked on the door, pushed the envelope underneath the door and this is the most nervous I've been in my whole life. I can't believe I just did that.

I can hear shuffling behind the door and I almost want to leave – almost. I don't. But I feel the stupid tears in my eyes again. What if she doesn't want this anymore? What if she just never opens the door? What if she hates me already? What if–

The door opens and she cries, and I'm crying. But she opened the door, does that mean–

Stop overthinking.

"I can't lose you. I promise, I will try for you. I will do anything for you." I whisper and I mean it, I'm hugging her so tightly.

"I love you, Chris."

Wow, it feels good. To hear someone say they love you and mean it.

"I am in love with you too."

Fucking hell. That feels just as good. To love someone and be able to let them know.

"Your handwriting still sucks."

I laugh, "fuck off."

Sorry, I didn't have time to proof-read, so, sorry if I have any typos. Pft. I was excited to upload it.

@loveesiren promised to tag you, queen. 🤍

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everybodyshusband · 2 years ago

Text

having thoughts about ace/arospec ghouls. but more specifically grey-ace dewdrop

sometimes he's all too happy to mess around with his partners, he'll initiate it, even. whisper one of the most toe-curling fantasies anyone's ever heard in one of his partner's ears and then gleefully enact it with them.

but sometimes sex is just... too much. even the idea of it can nauseate him, so when that feeling suddenly crashes down around him in the middle of the act?

approx, 875 words

"Rain- Rain, stop."

Rain pauses the movement of his hand inside him, and Dew could almost cry in relief. He thinks he's about to. "Dew? What's wrong?

"Red. I'm red. Just stop, please. I can't-"

Rain immediately pulls his fingers out of Dew and crawls up the pillows, next to where the little ghoul is now curled around himself. "What's going on, sundew?"

Dew just shakes his head. He feels disgusting. Violated. And he's still wet. His stupid body is still reacting to the memory of Rain's touch, secreting slick without his consent. He feels dirty. Repulsive. Made only worse by the fact that he had been enjoying it. He had liked it. That's the worst part.

He'd been close, and his body is still reacting according to that, without taking his mind's wishes into account. His cunt clenches down on nothing. He's going to cry. The tears are gathering behind his eyes and they're going to start falling and Rain will see.

Rain.

"Can I touch you, Dew?"

"Please don't." His voice shakes.

There's a pause. Rain is clearly weighing his options. "Do you... want me to get something to clean you up?"

Dew nods, it's a tiny movement.

Rain stands up, pulling a light blanket over Dew as he leaves, which Dew will be forever grateful for. The idea of being perceived right now, especially considering he's naked, is far too much for him to handle.

Rain returns not long later with a warm, damp cloth to find Dew shivering under the blanket; although Rain's fairly certain he's not shaking from the cold. "Do you want me to do it?" Rain's voice is impossible gentle.

Dew nods, albeit hesitantly. "Be careful?"

"Of course, sundew. You tell me if it's too much, okay? You can poke my arm twice if you don't want to talk."

Rain starts with his face, wiping his tears away. The warm cloth feels nice against his face. It calms him down a little, and the fact Rain is starting with his face and working his way down means Dew will have time to prepare himself for the worst part.

"Do you still want me to do it?"

Dew nods tightly.

"You're doing so well, love."

Dew digs his claws into the blanket and tells him to get it over with.

As expected, it's awful. Every swipe of the cloth against his sticky thighs brings back the viscerally unpleasant memory of Rain's touches. It's nothing against Rain, it never is. The water ghoul just happened to be the one with him when his mindset switched.

Rain murmurs soft encouragement as he works; he's probably figured out what's happening by now, and he's treating Dew as if he's breakable. Like this, he often is.

As unpleasant as the cleaning of his thighs is, he knows the worst is yet to come. Rain checks in with him one more time, waiting for Dew's stiff nod of approval before passing the cloth over his hole.

Dew whimpers, the tears beginning to fall all over again as Rain wipes the tacky fluid away as lightly as possible.

Rain pauses. "Dew? Dew, look at me, please." He waits until Dew does as he's asked. The water ghoul's figure is blurred through the curtain of his tears. "Do you need me to stop?"

Dew shakes his head. "No. No, it'll... it'll be worse later if I'm still messy. K- keep going. Please."

Rain nods and continues his work, hushing Dew reassuringly each time he shudders from a memory that makes him want to tear at his skin and disappear into the ground.

"Alright, this is going to be the worst bit, darling. But then it'll all be over. Are you ready?"

"Mhmm."

"Okay."

Dew's entire body jolts when Rain swipes over his clit, his body still reacting to Rain's touch without his permission. He sobs openly.

"Hurry up. Please."

"One more, love. One more, and them I'm done, I promise." True to his word, after the next swipe, Rain moves up until he's level with Dew's face again. "See? All done."

Now he's free from Rain's touch, Dew curls his legs up under the blanket again, wrapping it around himself so tightly that he doesn't know where he ends and the blanket begins. It's nice.

"Okay, I'm going to run a bath for you and grab some fresh clothes for afterwards, how does that sound, sundew?"

Dew nods.

Rain smiles down at him and begins to turn away (no doubt to start running a warm bath, hopefully with Dew's favourite bubble bath mixture too) but before the water ghoul can get too far away, Dew wiggles his arm out of the blanket and taps Rain's arm.

"Yes, darling?"

"Drink?" Dew's sign is shaky at best, but luckily Rain seems to understand.

"Yeah, I can get you a drink. Is water fine?"

"Yes."

"I'll do that before I get the bath started, okay?"

"Thank you."

"You're welcome, darling. You just stay there, alright?"

Dew nods and buts his head against Rain's arm affectionately, pleasantly surprised that the physical touch doesn’t make his stomach turn like he thought it might.

Rain smiles down at him again with nothing short of adoration for Dewdrop in his eyes. "I'll take care of you for the rest of the day."

#i hope dew's experience was somewhat realistic #it could also be interpreted as a dysphoric thing but i hope it's accurate enough to be recognised as an ace experience too #dewdrop ghoul #rain ghoul #transmasc dewdrop #transmasc rain #(i implied trans rain in my head okay)#aro/ace ghouls #the band ghost fanfiction #i never write drabbles this is nice #husband ficlets

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twisted-wonderland-shenanigans · 2 years ago

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Hello!

I was thinking about the Monster!AU and I'm now wondering about how the residents of NRC would react to how differently Yuu is anatomically.

And what I mean by that is like how most of the students have hoofs. A smaller comparison are ears.

I like to imagine them speculating that Yuu just didn't have ears and just understood what they were saying somehow or that Yuu had holes for ears like parrots do until they pushed our hair out of the way and revealed that they did have ears, they were just out of sight. I can also imagine them wondering why Yuu's ears looked like that.

And for the hoofs part, I can also see them wondering why Yuu wears pants and shoes. Because while I do think that they wear clothers on their upper half, I don't think the monsters in this twst au wear pants or shoes, so I think they'd be confused. I imagine some of them being confused about human feet, too. Toes may be a weird thing to them, too. Or at least the type that humans have since I saw that Jade's concept design has toes.

I just have a bunch of things circulating in my head around this au. Whenever I get reminded of it, I keep on thinking of misinformation that could have spread among the years or completely forgotten about that humans have been extinct, and these are just two of the ideas that have popped into my head. Your au is haunting me in the worst and best way possible.

Oooh yes yes yes yessssss, I love this sort of musing! It gives me life and inspires lil’ ideas in me~! ovo/ Muahahaha, I love that the Monster!AU is giving people ideas, because I love seeing the little shenanigans and randomness that can appear! c:<

Depending on the Yuu’s hair style (or lack of hair style if they have no hair), human ears would definitely be one of those curiously confusing aspects that may have monster students and researchers alike poking and pulling on them (though they do apologize if they pull too hard since ears are sensitive). In some cases, they might wonder if humans alter the shapes of their ears so they appear more rounded and cute before they find out that, no, this is how human ears naturally look.

Imagine their horror the moment they realize some humans actually pierce various parts of their body with metal! Sure, they may pierce their own ears (Kalim being one example), but piercing your nose? Bellybutton?! Tongue?!? “Why are humans so weird with decorative metal pieces all over their body!? Doesn’t that hurt?!”

Don’t worry, they get over it and get curious and fascinated by the style! 0v0/)

(No but seriously, there are some really gorgeous styles for piercings that can look really cool, I just get squeamish at the thought of having anything but my earlobes pierced for small studs, let alone getting a plug/tunnel or even tattoos for myself. 😅 If it’s your thing, then just make sure to keep the areas clean so they don’t get infected and you can continue looking and feeling amazing, you beautiful person! UvU)

You're right in that they do still wear clothes (I know the concept art doesn’t seem like it, but that’s because I don’t feel like dealing with clothing on that small a scale when I’m trying to figure out how to make their anatomy work), but they do in fact wear pants! Well, except Deuce, given how his body works, so it’s a case by case basis and choice. 😆 So, the fact that Yuu is wearing pants wouldn’t seem that unusual. Their shoes, however…

Like you said, most of the monsters have hooves and can wear horseshoes to make sure they have good traction wherever they go (they can be either metal or specialized rubber that mimics the soles of our own shoes and boots). Those who don’t have hooves though can easily adapt to different surfaces and can build up a tolerance for hot or cold (though that doesn’t mean it’s any less unpleasant during those times), but they’re certainly able to tolerate it better than we humans could, so the concept of shoes never really came to light and it was assumed that all humans had weirdly shaped hooves.

You can probably imagine how the students reacted the moment they realized that those “hooves” weren’t hooves at all.

Deuce: “Are you okay, Yuu? Coach was worried you were about to pass out.”

Yuu: *finished with running laps and collapsed under the shade of a tree to cool down* “Ugh…it’s so hot today.”

Ace: “Yeah, it is pretty hot.” *using his wings to generate a breeze to cool them down*

Yuu: “How come you’re not overheating?”

Ace: “Hm? Well that’s easy. Skvader’s and other rabbit-like monsters cool down with our ears. When the wind passes through them, it helps cool us down easier. We don’t really sweat like Deuce or any other species.”

Deuce: “How do humans keep cool?”

Ace: “Well, considering that Yuu’s sweating up a storm, I think they cool down the same way as centaur do.”

Yuu: “Well yeah…though we also cool down through our feet.” *realization sinks in as they sit up* “Oh yeah. Thanks for reminding me, I need to take my shoes off.”

Ace: “Shoes? What are those?”

Deuce: “How are you bending your leg like that, Yu-AAAAAAAAAAAA-!!!!”

Ace: “AAAAAAAAAAAAA-!!!”

Yuu: *holding shoe in one hand* “Why are you two screaming?!”

Ace and Deuce: “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-!!!!”

Riddle: *rushing over in a panic* “What’s wrong? Why are you-?” *sees Yuu holding their shoe in one hand* “AAAAAAAAA!!!! Yuu!! Your hoof!!!”

Yuu: “My what!? Why is everyone screaming?!”

Vargas: “What is going on here?!”

Yuu: “I have no idea! They just started screaming!”

Deuce: “Yuu! You literally just ripped your hoof off your leg!! We need to get you to the doctor before you bleed out!!!”

Yuu: *realizes what’s going on now* “Deuce, I’m fine! I’m not bleeding, see? It’s just my shoe! You guys can stop screaming now!”

Ace: “What the heck is a shoe!?”

Yuu: “It’s a cover we humans wear on our feet to protect them from getting hurt of gravel, glass, or other things that can injure us.” *pulls off sock and wiggles toes* “See? This is what a human foot looks like.” *notices Deuce and Riddle swaying, looking pale as a ghost* “Uh…guys?”

Thud! WHUD!!

Yuu: “Riddle!? Deuce!! Are you okay?!”

Ace: “I…I think they’re still processing the fact that you didn’t just dismember yourself in front of them.” *lays down* “I need a moment…”

…yeah, it went about as well as the grape incident. 😂 It took some explanation before those with hooves (like Riddle and Deuce) to recover from the shock of thinking Yuu had hurt themselves and get used to the sight of them without their shoes on when they’re relaxing or cooling down. It’s a simple yet powerful reminder to them that Yuu is literally from an extinct species that they know so little about.

Of course, the researchers (once they realized what was going on with the shoes) instantly became curious and studied how versatile humans could be. You know how sometimes when you’re carrying an armful of something or even just drop something lightweight, and instead of trying to bend down to get it you just grab the item with your foot and twist your leg to grab it easier? (Don’t deny it, I know you do this too fellow reader!) As “lazy” as it may seem, it’s still fascinating how our bodies are able to move in ways that may seem physically impossible or difficult to do in any other species outside of primates!

And I just imagined a scene similar to the one in Tarzan where he was trying to figure out what Jane was and accidentally tickled her, so imagine that happening and the monster in question accidentally getting kicked in the face because Yuu was overly ticklish 🤣

That’s all I’ve got for now, so I hope you enjoy! If anyone has any other ideas they wanna share, hit me up! ÒvÓ

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland monster au #twst monster au #ace trappola #deuce spade #riddle rosehearts #twisted wonderland yuu #twst yuu #what's this? Two posts in a row?!#I couldn’t resist 😂

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ochrearia · 2 months ago

Text

Biff and YS sillies.

Shakes these two violently. If anyone gets to be the big brother and little brother dynamic first it's these two and that's me being entirely biased towards my own BF but like IVE ALREADY BEEN WRITING THESE ASSHOLES INTERACTING FOR MONTHS IN POPR SO IT MAKES SENSE

I also almost gatekept this? But then I remember most of you guys here only found me off of Poly Propaganda so like. Why would I gatekeep a BF you guys are familiar with reading about

BFs in this drabble: PoPr!BF (Biff, mine) Yourself (YS)

Perhaps he was just losing his edge. Or maybe the world was starting to be kind enough to let him feel like a person again. Either way there was something so incredibly tempting about pushing buttons when Yourself knew he could get away with it. He was good at getting away with a lot of things. “The incentive is in your reactions, Biff. You want me to stop being obnoxious right back at you? Stop reacting then.”

“See this is on you, really, because I may not be smart but I can recognize the potential to be the worst little shit imaginable with the information you just gave me.” Biff grinned, flopping over YS’s chest intentionally. “And since we’re the same person it’s very likely that any of the ways my buttons can be pushed are the same ways yours can. As you have already proved by pushing a bunch of mine with no prior knowledge.”

“Ooh, big words from the little man.” YS continued to tease instead. He didn’t want to admit at any point that Biff was possibly his favorite, because that wasn’t fair to the others. They’d just known each other the longest, and while they all had the same potential for it, Biff was really the definition his mind jumped to when he thought of the two words ‘little brother’. He wasn’t saying that out loud for shit.

“Patronizing me is going to be your worst mistake.” Biff threatened, grinning wildly. “I think you need to be knocked down a few pegs, you massive asshole. If my buttons are similar to yours then this isn’t going to keep going well for you. No one knows what pisses me off more than me! Meaning I know how to piss you off too.” The smaller fished his phone from his pocket, pushing his elbows against the silly counterpart’s chest to prop himself up. YS watched with a raised eyebrow as he typed something.

“Oh that better fucking not be the watermelon song.”

“What’s wrong with the watermelon song?” Biff asked innocently as the aforementioned song started blasting from his phone at full volume. “Gee, I don’t know about you, but you know what pisses me off? A strong earworm that I know won’t shut up for at least a few days.”

YS had half a mind to shove this dickhead off of him. That was, at first, something he’d thought was a difference between them- how affectionate Biff was, and how he was keen to show that affection by being touchy. Though in reality it hadn’t been a difference at all, something which having met all these other selves has proven. Apparently he gave really good hugs. Something less known was that he stole away just as much comfort from them as he was intending to give. Contact was nice when your body was always cold for as long as you could remember. Pushing him off would just mean more cold, again.

He settled for roughly ruffling his little brot- Biff’s- hair instead. “You’re- okay what’s a good word that would actually make you mad… I’ve exhausted the punch power of things like ‘dumbass’ and ‘shitter’ by using them too often. They’ve lost their meanings.”

“I have literally done nothing wrong and you’re mean to me for no reason.”

“I’m adding ‘a big fat liar’ to the list by the way.” YS snarked back immediately. “Turn this shit off, I’ve already heard this damn thing several times too many for my lifetime.”

“Mean to me.” Biff repeated, not turning it off and just lowering the volume instead. “Can’t believe you’re such a fucking Battleblock Theater hater.”

“I have literally never played that game and I never want to because of you and this song. Turn it off or I’m shoving you away and you will leave back through the mirror without a hug today.”

“Fuck!” Biff swore, mad that his attempt to push YS’s buttons was instead ending in more of his being pushed. “You’re such an asshole! Big, stupid, dumb fuckin’! Jerk!”

YS burst into laughter, rough with disuse. Low snickering that was prone to snorts as he tried to breathe between them. He wasn’t one to laugh very much, and even when he did it was only for a few seconds at a time. It was incredibly rare for him to go on an actual giggle fit, not even believing he still could after everything. Then again, he’d also believed he would never get to feel warm again either. Or that he’d never get to see the colors of life in anything other than sad, depressed, washed-out hues. Things change. There’d been so much bad change to face in his life. He’d forgotten what good change was like.

It was like the sun. Bright and warm. Life giving.

“I don’t think I’ve gotten to hear you laugh for that long before.” Biff said, turning the playful atmosphere in a more serious direction. “That’s not to make you self-conscious by the way, don’t you dare start thinking that shit. Sorry, I tend to blurt things out before thinking, but like, honestly. The others aren’t fully sure how to be affectionate with you on the same level I do, because it’s kind of weird in a way, acting brotherly when that’s literally just yourself, but I know they think the same thing. It’s kind of… I don’t know, crisis inducing? To look at another version of you and know you’re so… sad. Eh, maybe not crisis inducing. Fuck I don’t know words. It makes us sad. That’s probably the most straight-forward way I can say it.”

YS’s laughs faded, shadowed eyes watching the other carefully. There was a very easy and negative takeaway he could get out of those words alone but he knew that wasn’t what Biff was trying to get at. Making assumptions before having the whole picture only led to more problems.

“You’re smart. Surely you caught on to that by now. You’re seeking us out with the intent to help because it’s the next best thing when you’re so clammed up on your own self that you can’t give everything you give to us, to yourself instead. You’re not going to get away with that without us giving back. So of course seeing you so sad makes us sad. But it’s okay! We’re going to help fix that.” He said matter-of-factly. How confident.

YS huffed out one last chuckle. “All of you are so confident about solving problems you’ve never actually faced. Somewhere along the line I suppose it’s endearing but you’re all incredibly dumb and misguided.”

“I’ve faced them.” Biff reminded. “Not physically. But I have… faced them. Seen everything you lock in your head because you think you have to contain it alone. And I know you’re still mad at me for doing that. You just never fucking talk, man. All of us dumbasses come to you all vulnerable and you fix that but you don’t let yourself get vulnerable. What are you afraid of?”

Don’t you know? Though he never really did say it out loud. There were a lot of things he didn’t say out loud. He was scared of hurting them. They knew that. He was scared to lose them too. Something about the double meaning of losing himself made him uncomfortable.

“...Are we okay?” Biff continued suddenly, voice softer and more nervous. “It’s been weeks since I, I guess, betrayed you in a way. Took your magic and used it against you. I knew it wasn’t what you wanted and did it anyway.”

A flash of him, pounding against the glass of a mirror he couldn’t walk in, because Biff had purposefully avoided anything reflective. His face, always so pale and sad, shadowed out and hung low, but rolling tears still visible, kept company by a panicked and upset grimace, teeth clenched so tight they could shatter.

Had it all been a mistake?

“You disappeared on me for a while after. Scared me. I knew I deserved it, you were so angry when you came to take your baggage back. You stopped showing up in my dreams even. I deserved it but it still scared me. I wondered if we’d ever talk again after a few days.”

Biff was right about one thing. He had been angry. Furious, really, though it wasn’t all directed at him. They hadn’t really talked about it either. The days he had been avoiding Biff were the days he decided to reach out to even more selves- he didn’t need to know that though. That would probably just make him feel some sort of venom towards the others. YS didn’t want that. All of them getting along was important too.

“But… are we okay?” Biff repeated, lips stuck in a frown. “I guess I can’t really ask for forgiveness if you really don’t want to do that. But I need to… know where we stand so I don’t overstep. Hell, I’ve probably been overstepping this whole time…”

This dude worried too much.

“You are annoying.” YS started, almost laughing at the look of shock that caused. “You are. But I’m not saying that as a bad thing. You’re annoying that you care so damn much about my opinion of you. We’ve had this conversation before about your GF and Pico. You lost all your confidence in the face of them not thinking highly of you, in a dream. You know what that’s telling me? That you somehow care about my opinion as much as theirs. Don’t you think that’s a bit overdramatic?”

“Not if it’s the opinion of my big brother…” Biff mumbled. He hadn’t meant it to be loud enough for the other to hear, a reply to himself born from a need to say something in rebuttal. The other had definitely heard though.

YS didn’t think the grin on his face could get any wider without his head splitting. “We’re okay, you fucking idiot.” Big brother huh? Guess that whole changing my nickname in the groupchat thing wasn’t just a joke. I’m not entirely sure if that should make me this damn happy. I think I’d be even happier if the rest started calling me that too… “If everything ended after one shit choice then none of us would be here. None of us, because all of us are prone to shit choices with the small amount of brain cells we have collectively. So yes, we're okay. Just don’t fucking do that again.”

“You got it, bossman.” Biff teased, steering the atmosphere back to silly. “Good to know I’ll still be getting my hug before I leave.”

“So long as you don’t push any more of my buttons before then.”

“No promises!”

#rgbfverse #this shit made me slam my desk while writing god I HATE THEM /pos

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